Comfortable
by moonlightandmagnolias85
Summary: Eponine dates pretty frequently, but it's Enjolras she seems to come home to.
1. Margaritaville

**1. Margaritaville**

As expected, the sharp knock – _1, 2, 3 –_ sounds on his door at exactly midnight. Before he has a chance to answer, Eponine strolls into the apartment and falls dramatically onto his couch with a groan.

Enjolras surveys her over the top of his laptop, smirking when he notices the messy bun piled on top of her head. There was no doubt her hair had either been immaculately curled or straightened before leaving for her date earlier that night. Judging by the state of it now, said date had not gone so well. He felt not a single trace of surprise.

"I can see you've met the man you're going to marry," he deadpans, and Eponine looks up to briefly glare at him.

"Haha. I'm laughing on the inside."

"Seriously, though, what was it this time?"

Eponine's nose scrunches up in distaste. "Okay, so. I _know _people in this city are legitimately crazy about the Saints. I _understand _that football is a big deal here. But he talked about it for _two solid hours. _Two hours! I almost spilled my tea on myself on purpose just to have a really good excuse to leave."

Enjolras closes his laptop and asks with amusement, "If it was that bad, why didn't you?"

"I didn't want to be rude."

Enjolras shakes his head and sighs, rising to complete the now familiar routine of at least two Saturday nights of every month. He walks into the kitchen, grabs two Abita beers (one Strawberry), and brings them back to the living room. Eponine takes the Strawberry Abita with a small smile and leans her head back against the couch.

Silence descends for at least ten minutes, but it doesn't feel uncomfortable or awkward; in fact, this is the most relaxed Enjolras has felt all day. He is so relaxed, in fact, that he props his feet up on Combeferre's beloved antique coffee table, which prompts Eponine to immediately swat at his legs.

"You know 'Ferre will get mad if you scuff up his table."

"It's fine. He won't even notice."

Eponine shrugs in deference, but leaves her hand on his leg. It's fine; Enjolras will just pretend he can't feel her long, thin fingers burning a hole through his jeans, and the comfortable silence falls once more.

"Where did he take you anyway?" he finally asks.

Eponine snorts and turns her head to gauge his reaction. "Margaritaville. In the Quarter."

Enjolras looks at her in disbelief and then begins to laugh.

She swats at him again and says through her own laughter, "Well it's not _that _bad!"

"Yes, it is. You don't take a date to a place where Jimmy Buffet music constantly plays and you can sit on cheap tire swings at a bar. And then talk about football for two hours."

"So where do you take a date?" Eponine asks, her expression suddenly turning curious. "I think you've been on only one in the infinite number of years I've known you."

Enjolras clears his throat a little uncomfortably and thinks for a moment before turning to Eponine on the couch. "I don't know. Maybe Domenica...quiet enough to talk, good drinks, great food. Classy, but not too fancy. Anywhere but a tourist trap like Margaritaville."

The corner of Eponine's mouth turns up. "Nice. Well at least my date had good intentions...just not very good execution."

"Good intentions don't always translate," Enjolras agrees, and something about the statement rings a little too true for him.

Eponine yawns and stretches, lifting her arms above her head. "Yeah, well. I guess I should get going, it's almost 1."

"I'll walk you home." Enjolras stands and offers his hand to pull Eponine off the couch as she looks at him in exasperation.

"Enjolras, you don't have to walk me home every time it's dark out. It's just across the street. What's going to happen, honestly?"

Enjolras shrugs and walks to the front door, opening it and leading Eponine out with one hand on the small of her back. "You never know. This is New Orleans."

"You could just stand at the window and watch me walk across. I'll even turn around and wave to you from the porch," Eponine protests. This is the same conversation they have every time she comes over late at night. It never changes, and neither of them expect it to. It was just what they did now. They were halfway across the street already and still bickering back and forth.

"Yeah, and what if while I'm watching, some creep decides to come rob you? And then by the time I get there, he's already taken off with your stuff?"

Eponine laughs wryly. "It's not like he'd be getting much. Rob away."

"That's not the point."

Now they had reached the front door of the double Eponine shared with Courfeyrac and Grantaire, and they turn to stare at each other in annoyance for a moment. Enjolras wonders if it was as fake for Eponine as it is for him at this point. Somewhere along the line, real annoyance had turned into a routine, a one-act play, a strange place of comfort that neither were quite ready to confront.

"Well, _thanks, _Mr. Chivalrous, for walking me home."

"You're welcome. Good night, Eponine."

"Good night, Enj." Eponine quickly unlocks the front door and slips inside, giving him one last smile before the door clicks shut. It's much easier to walk across _with_ her than it is to trudge alone back across the street, but he does it anyway, unfailingly, every Saturday night Eponine comes home from one of her dates.

And his mind will definitely not focus on her for the rest of the night. Nope. Not at all.

* * *

**Well, hello. ****Hm.**

**So, I kind of feel guilty for posting this. I've gotten quite a few messages from readers lately wondering when the hell I'm going to update _The Habit of Being Happy _and finally post _Until the Earth is Free._**

**Honestly, I don't know. I'm so ridiculously busy with school and writing lesson plans and teaching, I literally work from 6 am to 7 or 8 pm every night. And most weekends I'm up at school working some more or trying to unwind with friends. And my mind doesn't want to focus enough to actually sit down and write.**

**But I've been really hooked on Enjonine lately (despite the craziness of the Tumblr tag), and had this idea this morning after a night of rare and really good sleep. The inspiration was there, so I just had to go for it. Hope you enjoyed this first part and hopefully I'll get some more posted soon! **

**Follow me on tumblr at moonlightandmagnolias85 . tumblr . com. :) And please review!**

**~A**


	2. The Future

**2. The Future**

The next time she knocks on his door, it's three weeks later and the weather has finally turned from the hot, sticky heat of Indian Summer to the slightly less humid and cooler autumn air. (Though the trees always stay green in New Orleans, for the most part.)

Enjolras would normally be done with his work by midnight on a Saturday, but he's in the middle of a big case at work and is still absorbed enough in his notes from the preliminary trial hearing to not even notice her knock. It isn't until a beer is literally shoved in his face that he looks up to see her smirking at him.

"Well hello to you, too, Eponine," she says in her best imitation of his voice. "I'm glad to see you've gotten home from your date in one piece. Glad this one wasn't a serial killer!"

He stifles a yawn. "Hey."

"Hey yourself." She nudges his shoulder and sits down on the arm of the chair, glancing at the notes strewn across his lap and the various articles pulled up in different tabs on the computer. "Are you seriously still working?"

"Yeah. I know, it's ridiculous. There's just a lot to do for this and I _know _this guy is guilty, and I want to get him."

"You will." Eponine reaches out and gently rubs his shoulder, just long enough for him to feel himself begin to relax. Then she slides off of the chair and onto the couch, taking a long drink from her Strawberry Abita.

Enjolras closes the computer with a snap and gathers up his notes. "And I did go out last night, so it's not so bad that I'm working on a Saturday."

"I'll give you that. You've been a bit more social than usual lately."

"I'd still rather stay home."

"I can't believe you live in this wonderful city and still say shit like that. There's so much to _do _here."

"If you like to drink," he retorts. (This is another recycled argument they frequently have.)

"You're drinking now." She gestures to the beer in his hand.

"Yeah, but this is what we do after you come back from a date. It's our thing. How was your date, by the way?"

"Eh." Eponine shrugs, but doesn't say anything else. That could go either way, good or bad, and Enjolras doesn't know which. (He does, however, acknowledge the little part of his brain that hopes it means bad.)

"Does that mean good or bad?"

"Kind of in between. It wasn't like the last one, or the guy that just blatantly stared at my boobs all night, or the guy with really sweaty hands. He was nice. We talked. He was just kind of boring."

"Oh. Are you going to see him again?"

"Nah. I don't do boring." She winks at him conspiratorially and Enjolras rolls his eyes.

"Maybe to your detriment, Eponine. What if he was just nervous or something? Maybe he isn't boring at all and you're passing on a really great guy." Why the hell was he arguing _for _her going on a date again?

"Or maybe he was just boring," she says with finality.

"What is it with your sudden obsession with finding a guy, anyway?" Enjolras has wanted to ask her for months, ever since the string of dates first started, but he never has. She is the only person in his life that he wants to say _everything _to, but can't. Or doesn't. He isn't sure which.

He can see her visibly bristle, which is the reaction he doesn't want her to have. She is sensitive about men, and has every right to be with the bullshit she's been through with her father and old, abusive boyfriend.

"I don't mean anything by it, Eponine," he says gently. "I'm just curious why it seems to be such a priority for you now when it wasn't for a long time."

She studies him for a moment, probably trying to judge his intentions, before speaking. She's always accusing him of judging people, of not giving them a chance, and he knows it's because he has made her feel judged before. He hopes she knows that though he may judge her, no matter how hard he tries not to, he would never condemn her.

"I think that's why," she finally says. "I feel like I have myself together now. I have a job I love, I have good friends...and I'm watching those friends get married and start families. I think I'm at the point where I want that."

She looks very serious, which is a bit unusual for Eponine, though Enjolras knows he has the privilege of seeing her be serious more than most do. "That makes sense. I guess we've never really talked about the future before."

"Guess not." Eponine takes another drink of her beer and swirls the liquid around in the bottle, pursing her lips. "Jesus, this is such a grown up conversation. Not a good topic for a Saturday night."

"You never do things the way they're supposed to be done. I'd think a serious conversation on a Saturday night wouldn't really bother you."

"It shouldn't. It doesn't, not really." She cocks her head and studies him for a minute. "Do you think it's weird? That I'm starting to want those things?"

"What? Getting married? Having kids?"

She nods.

"No," he says slowly. "I mean, I never pictured you teaching elementary school, but you're amazing at it. I never pictured you getting married or having kids, either, but it seems like whatever you want, you usually make happen. And you do it well."

She smiles and bites her lip, looking at him contemplatively. "That was actually really nice to say, Enjolras. Thanks."

He clears his throat and nods, feeling his face turn a little bit red. "Yeah, sure."

Eponine finishes her beer and stands, grabbing his empty bottle, too. She disappears into the kitchen to throw them away, then comes back out and walks straight to the door.

"I guess it's that time...goodnight, Enj."

Enjolras is up and at the door in the blink of an eye, grabbing her hand just as she is prepared to step off the front porch.

"Think you can sneak away, huh?"

"I can try," she says impishly, and squeezes his hand.

Enjolras feels a tiny pulse of electricity shoot through his arm and abruptly drops her hand. He hopes he doesn't imagine the fleeting look of disappoint in her eyes, but Eponine turns to continue their way across the street before he can be sure.

"I feel like I just have to say it now. Enjolras, you don't _have _to walk me home," Eponine says robotically.

"Yes, I do. Shut up about it."

"Fine."

She stomps onto her own porch and looks down at him. "If you need a break from work tomorrow, come over and we can go grab coffee, okay?"

"Yeah, I might take you up on that." He knows he will.

Enjolras waits until the door closes behind her, then walks back across the street alone. When he opens his own front door, Combeferre is casually leaning against the doorframe between the living room and the kitchen, smirking at him.

"Walking Eponine home again?"

Enjolras wants to slap that knowing, smug grin right off his face.

"Yes. The city is dangerous at night," he says defensively.

"Uh huh. Sure. There's no ulterior motives there at all." Combeferre dodges the pillow Enjolras throws at him from the couch and jogs down the hall to his bedroom. "Get some sleep, Enjolras!"

* * *

**Thanks for the reviews and follows so far! Man, I missed writing...now it's going to be a constant battle in my head. Devil on one shoulder screeching "WRITE FAN FICTION!" while the angel on the other says, "BUT YOU NEED TO DO LESSON PLANS OR YOU CAN'T TEACH AND WILL LOSE YOUR JOB. AND THEN YOU WON'T BE ABLE TO PAY FOR YOUR INTERNET. AND FAN FICTION WILL BE NO MORE AT ALL."**

**The point: I really need to find a balance.**

**Please review!**


	3. Regret

**3. Regret**

The next week, there is, of course, another date. Enjolras is so wrapped up in his court case, however, that he just can't bring himself to care as much this time. The man he is prosecuting is guilty as sin, Enjolras is sure, but there is surprisingly little evidence to tie him to the case. It was a drive-by shooting, a seemingly random incident that is all too common in many parts of this city, in which a three year old girl died. It was her birthday party.

It isn't uncommon for Enjolras to get wrapped up in his cases, but this is his first in which the victim is so young. Comparatively, Eponine's string of dates seems insignificant. It isn't worth it to care at this point.

Still, he doesn't deny her entry when she waltzes into his living room, a little bit later than usual, around 12:45 am. She usually sticks pretty closely to her self-imposed midnight curfew for first dates. Enjolras barely glances at her as she sits down silently on the couch, and keeps scribbling revisions on his opening arguments.

She watches him silently, which Enjolras appreciates; she always seems to know when to leave him alone and not push for his attention. (And the times when she does push, Enjolras is usually willing to give it to her. Tonight, he isn't.)

Finally, as the scribbles of his terrible handwriting began to blur together, Enjolras tosses his papers down on the coffee table and leans back, twisting in his chair to pop his back. He has been sitting in the same, stiff position for far too long.

"How was your date?"

"He's a chef."

"That didn't really answer the question," Enjolras points out.

"He chewed too loudly and made faces every time he took a bite. And complained about or criticized every single thing that was brought to our table." Eponine rolls her eyes and adds, "Which was enough food to feed a small army, by the way. It was so wasteful. And it was damn good, not worth whining about."

Enjolras sighs; for some reason, her complaints do nothing but annoy him tonight.

"Jesus, Ep. Where are you finding these guys? And how do you not know they're going to annoy the shit out of you before you go out with them? I thought you were a fairly good judge of character."

He knows his tone is biting and cold and that he sounds as if he's speaking to an inferior. He knows it's wrong immediately, but the damage is done.

"What crawled up your ass and died?" she shoots back. "Don't take it out on me if you're having a bad day, Enjolras."

"You don't have to come over here every fucking time another man disappoints you." His voice is icy. Why is he doing this? He doesn't mean to treat her this way.

He sees what may be a flash of pain in her eyes before she grabs her purse and rises. "Fine. I'm sorry I bothered you."

She is already opening the door to step into the night before Enjolras rises and practically sprints across the room, reaching above her head to slam the door back into place. Eponine flinches at the sound, and maybe the feel of his body so close behind her. She doesn't say anything, but keeps staring stubbornly at the door and his hand holding it firmly closed. Her hand is still on the knob.

Two years ago, Enjolras would have let her storm out and then they wouldn't have spoken for weeks, even if, deep down, he knew he acted like an ass. Two years ago, he was still pretty convinced that he was right all the time and that women, even Eponine, were silly, flighty creatures who couldn't hold their own against the weight of his stare and self-assured arguments.

Eponine had effectively shattered his misconceptions since then, though, and he already regretted speaking to her so harshly. He might not have been able to apologize at one time in his life, but he wasn't so arrogant now.

"I'm sorry. I took out my frustrations about other things on you. That was wrong of me."

Eponine slowly turns to face him, her gaze only a little softer than before. "I don't appreciate it when you talk down to me, Enjolras. If you don't know by now that my life doesn't actually revolve around finding a man to marry me, then we have some serious problems."

"I know that, Eponine. I didn't mean what I said." There is only the slightest hint of impatience in his tone. He apologizes, but he doesn't know how to take it if it isn't immediately accepted and forgotten. And Eponine isn't very good at letting him forget his mistakes.

"Then _don't say it in the first place, _dumbass." She pokes her finger forcefully at his chest and glares for a minute before mumbling, "Fine. I accept your apology."

"Thank you."

Enjolras is suddenly aware of how close together they are standing, how all he would have to do is tilt his head and swoop down just a bit and her lips would be pressed against his, effectively trapping her between him and the door...

Instead of acting on what would surely be an act to get the shit slapped out of him, Enjolras quickly takes a step back, clearing his throat.

Eponine walks back to the couch and sits without another word and Enjolras follows, deciding not to mention her date again. She obviously wouldn't see the chef anymore, so there was no point in touching on a topic that had already sparked an argument.

"Your case starts on Monday?"

"Yeah."

"The one you've been stressing about for weeks?"

He nods and leans his head against the back of the couch. "Yeah – it's probably going to be on the news. When children are shot and killed, that's usually worth at least a little air time. I'm sure they can squeeze it in between analyzing Miley Cyrus' latest naked escapades and squealing over a thirty-second N'Sync reunion."

Eponine cracks a smile. "Look at you with your accurate pop culture references."

"I don't live in a closet."

"I know. I guess you're worried?"

"I always worry."

"I know. You do it because you care so much. But it's still not good for you."

"I just don't know how I could live with myself if I let this kid walk away. He shot a three year old girl. He shouldn't be allowed to just go wander the streets again." Enjolras' voice is firm, sure of what he is saying.

"Eh..." Eponine doesn't sound so sure, and Enjolras turns to look at her in surprise. "I mean, this kid is barely an adult himself. Look at where he grew up. Look at the school system he's gone through, that has completely failed him. He probably reads on a first or second grade level. He probably has five or six siblings who are as fucked up as he is because they don't have a dad and his mom is a crackhead. I saw it all the time growing up, and I still see it now in my students. He could be one of my students in a few years, Enjolras."

"That still doesn't mean he should walk free. He murdered a _baby_, Eponine."

"I know; I'm not excusing his actions. I'm just saying, Enj, that there are more problems in this city than we can even comprehend. Yes, he deserves to pay for his actions. But, damn. Isn't it our social responsibility to catch these things _before _they happen? To prevent them from happening in the first place?"

Enjolras blinks rapidly, and says in amazement, "Who the hell _are _you?"

Eponine laughs and shrugs. "You know, I listened to you talk about this all through college. It's only since you actually graduated from law school that you seem to be _re_-acting to problems rather than _pro_-actively trying to prevent them."

He is dumbfounded as he realizes she's right. "Jesus."

Eponine raises her eyebrows. "What? Are you okay?"

"Yeah...I mean...yeah. I'm fine." His brain is on overload, thoughts spinning around his head like a hurricane. He turns and stares at the TV, even though it isn't turned on. They don't speak for several minutes, until Eponine's voice once again breaks through the silence.

"You know you _will _win, though, right? There will come a day when you'll lose, I'm sure...it seems inevitable. But you'll win this one." She sounds so sure, like she believes in him and his abilities so completely, that it makes him believe in them, too.

"Thanks, Eponine."

"Mmmhmm. Walk me home?"

He is surprised; there's no fuss, no argument about being able to do it on her own. No accusations of the way he is perpetuating anti-feminism just be refusing to let her cross the street by herself.

Just a simple request tonight.

"Yeah, sure." He stands and pulls her up, this time squeezing her fingers gratefully before he loosens his grip. Eponine keeps her hand in his even longer, and he thinks it is with some regret that she finally allows her hand to fall back to her side.

* * *

**Thanks to everyone that has favorited/followed the story. Only a few reviews so far, but the follows make me hopeful that people are enjoying it at least a little bit.**

**I have to admit, too, that this story is just a _little _bit autobiographical. Hopefully Enjolras and Eponine still seem in character.**

**Follow me on tumblr! moonlightandmagnolias85 . tumblr . com.**

**Thanks!**


	4. A Not-Date

**4. A Not-Date**

The next Saturday, Eponine shows up in his bedroom doorway at 11 am, a full thirteen hours earlier than expected. He is awake, but barely; Saturday mornings are the one day a week he allows himself to sleep in, catching up on all of the rest he deprives himself of every other day.

As soon as she appears, Enjolras pulls the covers up to his chin, covering his bare chest. He knows it's silly to be embarrassed to be seen without a shirt on, but he is anyway. Eponine grins in seeming appreciation at the sight, but doesn't say anything about his state of undress.

"Hey, sleepy-head. Rise and shine, we're going to see a movie."

"We are?"

"Yes, and don't sound so enthusiastic. Come on." Eponine hops onto his bed and puts her feet on either side of him, bouncing up and down like a child.

"Stop it." He bats at her legs and looks up at her, blushing as he finds himself a little bit mesmerized by this angle.

"Not until you get up. Come on, I'm serious. Mary Poppins is playing at The Prytania!"

At that, Enjolras sits up, pulling her down beside him. "You seriously expect me to get out of bed to go watch a damn English nanny dance with some penguins and ride a carousel horse? Who do you think I am, Courfeyrac?"

"Please?" Eponine smiles sweetly, and adds. "Courf _was_ going to go, but Liz called, so he bailed on me to go play kickball. Please come?"

He doesn't respond, just glares.

Eponine sighs and shrugs dejectedly. "Okay, it's fine. I'll just go by myself." She clambers off the bed and shoots him a sad look as she shuffles to the door. Enjolras wonders how he can be completely aware that she's playing him, yet have it work, anyway.

"Fine," he groans. "I'll go with you. It starts at noon?"

"Yes." Eponine grins and reaches over to muss his already sleep-tangled hair. "You're the best, Enj. I'll wait for you in the living room."

Once Eponine leaves him in peace, Enjolras rises from the bed and proceeds to get ready. They make it to the movie with plenty of time to spare, and Enjolras, ever the gentleman, buys Eponine popcorn and a diet soda. They go up to the balcony, their favorite place to sit in this theater, because it is small and intimate. And because this is the classic movie showing on a Saturday afternoon, no one ever sits up there. It's the same today, and they settle into the first row by themselves. Eponine eats her popcorn happily and remarks teasingly, "The only thing that would make this better is if it were a _sing along. _I think I would actually pay copious amounts of money to see you sing 'Let's Go Fly a Kite.'"

She snorts just thinking about it.

Enjolras can't help the tiny grin that appears. "The day that happens I hope you know to take me straight to the emergency room."

"After I enjoy the show, of course."

"Cruel. Why do you like this movie so much, anyway?"

Eponine smiles in remembrance and shrugs. "When I was a kid, the library had free movies to rent, but they didn't have very many good ones. I'd get this one for me and 'Zelma all the time. It just takes me somewhere different, you know? Maybe it's silly."

Enjolras suddenly feels his own affection for this movie growing. "No, I understand. Makes sense."

They don't have a chance to talk anymore before the movie starts, and Enjolras finds himself enjoying it more than he expected. Mostly, he likes sneaking glances at Eponine, seeing the way her eyes light up and she smiles at her favorite parts, completely unaware that he's even there. She's feeling generous and shares the rest of her popcorn with him, which is only fair since he bought it, and by the end of the movie, Enjolras is almost tempted to call "Mary Poppins" one of his favorite films.

He'll certainly never be able to watch it without thinking of Eponine.

On the way home, she wordlessly sends someone a text, but barely glances at her phone when the person almost immediately texts back. Only a minute later, her phone buzzes once more, and again, she ignores it.

"Who's that?" he finally asks.

"Just the guy I was supposed to go out with tonight. I don't really feel like it anymore, so I canceled."

"Oh." Enjolras continues driving and doesn't say anything else for a minute, then asks shyly, "Does that mean you're free then?"

"Yep."

"Do you want to grab an early dinner? Maybe go to Envie later for coffee and see whoever's playing? We haven't done that in a while." (_Not since you started dating every Saturday night,_ he adds in his head.)

Eponine smiles widely and nods. "Absolutely. Thought you'd never ask, Monsieur."

Enjolras doesn't even have to ask where to go for dinner – Eponine is a frozen strawberry margarita kind of girl, as long as someone else is paying for the ridiculously expensive drinks at Superior Grill. It's early enough to not be crowded yet, and they get a table right away.

Their dinner conversation is easy and relaxed; it feels normal, it feels comfortable, it feels happy. Enjolras feels happy.

He thinks Eponine does, too. She _looks _happy, anyway, with her flushed cheeks and dark eyes. She smiles so much more now than she did when they first met, when she was still too skinny and worked herself into the ground with two jobs and school. When she believed she wasn't really worth anything except the scraps Pontmercy would occasionally throw her way, and the rough treatment from her on-again/off-again boyfriend Montparnasse.

Enjolras doesn't know what exactly changed her, why she slowly gained a sense of self and confidence, why she began to walk straighter and taller, standing out in the crowd rather than blending into the shadows. He doesn't know why, but he's grateful that it happened, because she deserves to be happy.

"You seem a lot more relaxed than you were last Saturday," Eponine finally remarks. "Is that because court is going well?"

Enjolras nods and takes a final bite of his fish tacos. "Yeah, it went better than I expected this week. I'm pretty certain it's going to be finished by Friday. And I think we're going to get a guilty verdict. I hope so, anyway."

"Good. You're much more tolerable when work is going well."

"You're so incredibly nice to me, Eponine." Enjolras rolls his eyes and finds that he's relaxed enough to actually flirt a little bit with her. "Maybe I won't pay for your dinner and excessively large margaritas."

Eponine is silent for a second and her eyes darken. "Enj, you _don't _have to pay for me. I mean, I didn't come over this morning expecting you to spend a bunch of money on me today. You paid for the movie, and the popcorn. You don't have to pay for this, too..." Eponine trails off a little awkwardly, avoiding his eyes.

"Ep, it's not a big deal. I was just teasing. Of course I'm paying." He doesn't even know why he wants to, why he suddenly feels like it's important.

"No, Enjolras. I think it's sweet that you want to, but this isn't a date, and I don't expect..." Eponine stops abruptly, a stunned look on her face. "Wait, is this a date, Enjolras?"

Enjolras' mouth hangs open for a solid ten seconds before he realizes and forces it closed. "I...no! No?" He's very aware he sounds like a bumbling idiot, and that the last 'no' he uttered sounded more like a confused question than a solid answer.

Eponine slowly relaxes against the back of her seat. "Okay? I mean, I didn't _think _you meant it as a date, but then...I mean, you _kind of _did ask me out. And it sort of _feels _like a date. And I just...for a second I didn't know." Her face is red as she reluctantly meets his eyes. "I'm sorry. I just made this really awkward and it wasn't at all before."

"No, it's...it's fine. I mean, I did, technically, ask you out. It doesn't matter whether or not I meant it as a date."

Eponine raises her eyebrows. "So you did ask me out? Or you didn't? Now I just feel confused."

"Yeah...let's just forget about it. It's a not-date. Where I pay." Enjolras feels a little disappointed in himself – she just gave him an in. She gave him the opportunity to say yes, this is a date. I want to date you. And he fucked it up.

Eponine shakes her head and kicks him under the table, looking nonplussed. "Fine. I'm not going to argue anymore. I live on a teacher's salary and you're a fucking lawyer. If you're willing to pay, go for it. And if you want to buy me a pony later, I won't object to that, either, because I've always wanted one."

Enjolras laughs, glad that she's finally broken the tension. "One pony, coming up later."

"Good." Eponine smiles and takes a noisy sip, the last, of her third margarita. "And I'm not getting any more of these, either, or else you'll have to carry me home."

"I draw the line of chivalry there."

They finish their dinner and drinks soon after, and the awkwardness never reappears. Still, the thought won't leave Enjolras' mind now that she has put it there: when he asked her out, did part of him mean for it to be a date? Did he want it to seem like more than just two friends hanging out together on a day off?

He knows he cares about her. He thinks Eponine is one of the most incredible people he has ever met, and he is not oblivious to the way his skin tingles every time she brushes against him, or the way just hearing her voice some nights can make him relax. But is it enough to want to _be _with her and possibly risk the solid foundation of friendship they have?

He has never been in a serious relationship. He's never even wanted to be in one. He prefers being alone. But the thought of coming home to Eponine every night, of talking through his day with her, feeling her sleep beside him...it's scary how appealing that suddenly feels. But still, he's a lot to deal with. Enjolras is moody and set in his ways; he likes to be right, and sometimes, he just doesn't want to speak. And he doesn't feel like explaining that to anyone; he doesn't think he could without sounding like a complete asshole.

Yeah, there's no way Eponine would ever be happy with someone as demanding as he is. So, maybe a not-date is the best they'll ever get to.

He resigns himself to being happy with that, and decides he'll hold on to the memory of her laughter and sparkling eyes for exactly those nights when he doesn't feel like speaking. And hopefully she'll understand.

* * *

**All of you lovely reviewers and followers are awesome. :) I really appreciate it. I'm enjoying writing these two way more than I thought I would!**

**I have everything planned out and there should be 10 chapters total. (And some smut in the last one, 'cause...why not?)**

**~A**


	5. Rain

**5. Rain**

The next Saturday, Eponine goes out with the guy she canceled on to spend time with Enjolras the weekend before. Enjolras has seen her every night that week, but the topic of their 'not-date' hasn't come up again. And Enjolras forces himself not to think of her whenever she's not around. He's perfectly fine with the friendship they have.

Around 11:30 that Saturday night, it begins to pour. Thunder has rumbled in the distance all evening, and the air is heavy and humid when the sky finally opens up. It's a complete deluge, and Enjolras knows if it continues to rain this heavily for anything more than a few minutes, the streets of New Orleans will begin to flood. They always do – they live in a fishbowl, where the ground is already saturated, and there's nowhere for the water to go. It's supposed to rain all night and not let up until early the next day, and Enjolras tries to tell himself that it's ridiculous to worry about Eponine just because it's raining. She isn't going to melt if she gets a little wet. And it's not like she's out with some idiotic sixteen year old guy that's never driven in the rain before.

Still, he scoots his rolling desk chair suspiciously close to the window, just to make sure he can see outside when her date drops her off and make sure she gets into her house safely. Surely, with this weather, she won't bother running across the street to him and getting soaked in the process.

Only ten minutes later, a sleek black car pulls up to Eponine's house across the street and she jumps out, running quickly to the porch. She waves as the car backs out of the driveway, and hesitates for only the briefest of seconds before hopping back off the porch and sprinting across the street. Enjolras abruptly pulls away from the window so she won't see him being creepy and spying on her. He grins as he gets up and goes into the bathroom, grabbing a clean towel. He's just entering the living room again when the door swings open and Eponine slips inside, looking like a drowned rat.

She laughs when she sees him standing there with the towel. "Expecting me, were you?" Her eyes flicker to the window and Enjolras feels his cheeks turn red as he's caught.

"I had a suspicion."

"Right." She takes the towel and winces as she looks down at the floor. "Can I borrow some clothes? I didn't think I would get _this _wet and I'm dripping water all over the place."

"Yeah, come on." Enjolras leads her into the bedroom and grabs one of his Tulane t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants. He tosses them to Eponine and leaves the room so she can change.

A few minutes later, Eponine enters the living room again, dry, and sans pants. Enjolras is suddenly pretty sure she is trying to kill him, and try as he might, he can't force his gaze away from her tan, shapely legs. He narrows his eyes and says in what he hopes is a nonchalant voice, "I did give you pants, you know. Did you miss those?"

"Sweatpants, Enjolras. You gave me sweatpants. It's eighty degrees outside, even with the rain. And your t-shirt is more like a dress anyway. Why? Does it bother you?" Eponine smiles impishly, like she _knows _it does, and Enjolras is at a complete loss as to how to play this game. What does she want him to do? Stare at her? Ignore it? Throw her on the couch and ravage her?

"No, it doesn't bother me." He rolls his eyes.

"Good." Eponine sits on the couch and stretches said legs out, his t-shirt riding up dangerously high on her thighs.

Enjolras swallows roughly and looks away. "It's not supposed to stop raining all night."

"Then I guess I'll have to stay here. I don't want to run across the street without any pants on."

He glances at her and smirks. "You can sleep on the couch, I'm not giving up my bed for you when you're the dumbass who ran over here in this downpour."

"It's fine, I can sleep anywhere."

"Well, I'm going to bed, then. I'm exhausted." Enjolras stands and crosses the room to the hall closet, grabbing a pillow and blanket for Eponine. He drops them unceremoniously on the couch as she gives him an incredulous look. He pretends he doesn't notice, and also pretends that the reason he's decided to abruptly exit has _nothing _to do with how turned on he is at the sight of her in his clothes...or lack thereof.

She says goodnight as he closes his bedroom door and Enjolras immediately peels his own clothes off, falling face first into the bed. He groans into his pillow and wonders if Eponine has any idea how hard she is making this for him, if she has any _clue _how much he cares for her. And because he cares for her, he needs to stay away from her. They're good as friends, but damn. She isn't making it easy.

He slides between the cool sheets and lays there with his eyes closed for a full fifteen minutes, listening to the steady rain fall on the roof, before his bedroom door opens and Eponine slips in.

He keeps his back to her and closes his eyes, hoping to feign sleep, but his breath catches as she lifts the sheets and slides in next to him.

"Your couch sucks," she says softly, almost hesitantly, as if she's not sure whether or not he's going to send her out or not.

"Yeah, I know."

"And you were gonna make me sleep on it anyway?" She lightly smacks his back and Enjolras can't help the smile that creeps onto his face.

"Were?"

"I'm not going anywhere now. Your bed is amazing."

Enjolras squeezes his eyes shut and wills his body not to have an instinctual reaction to those words.

"Turn over and face me? I don't like talking to the back of your head."

Enjolras sighs and slowly rolls over, a little bit breathless at the sight of her nestled against his pillows, her dark hair spread out around her.

"Better?"

"Mmhmm."

She studies him for a minute, then says quietly, "You never asked me about my date."

"I figured if it was any good, you'd just tell me."

"Yeah...not worth mentioning, I guess. I thought maybe we'd have a lot to talk about since he's a teacher, too, but not really. It didn't even sound like he likes his students that much."

"And you do." Enjolras has never seen someone so passionate about their job; the students Eponine teaches have a very similar background to her. They don't always go home to someone that loves them, they don't always have enough food to eat, and they all deserve more than they get. Eponine desperately tries to make up the difference and Enjolras admires her for it. He doesn't like the nights she sometimes comes home in tears, however, because one of her students lost a father or brother to violence, or was taken away from their family and put into foster care. Sometimes he thinks she's a little _too _close to her job.

"What did you do today?" she finally asks.

"Not much; just met some people from work to go over some notes. They're interns, and desperate to please, so they were prepared. It didn't take too long."

Eponine smiles and tucks her hand under her cheek, scooting just the tiniest bit closer. Enjolras doesn't pull away.

"I bet you intimidate the shit out of them. They're probably scared to death of you."

Enjolras raises his eyebrows. "They are not. I don't know why you all think I'm such a horrible person. I don't _scare _people."

"Yes, you do. You made a freshman cry when you were a grad assistant, Enj. Just because he didn't know the year the French Revolution started."

"Well, come on! It's a major historical event. There's no excuse. He was in a fucking French history class."

"Believe it or not, Enjolras, some people are forced to take that class and don't do it voluntarily. Shocking, I know."

Enjolras almost leans forward and kisses her as she teases him, widening her eyes with pretend shock at his ignorance.

"No kidding? I didn't pick up on that, since it was the least attended of all my classes."

"Oh, Enj." Eponine sighs in exasperation. "I'm sure the weight of your terrible stare had nothing to do with it."

"It's not that bad."

"You stopped me in my tracks the first time we met and I'm pretty damn hard to scare."

"Did I really?"

"Yes. I thought I was offending you just by my presence at the meeting."

"Oh. Damn, I don't even really remember..." That is a lie. Of course he remembers. And he knows exactly why he was glaring at her: because she was practically waiting on Pontmercy, refilling his coffee and asking if he needed anything every damn time he moved. He thought it was infuriating seeing a young woman do something he saw as so degrading, and fucking Pontmercy had been completely oblivious.

If that had continued any longer than it did, Enjolras is sure he never could have ever been friends with Eponine. Thank God she isn't like that anymore. Now she goes after the things she wants and makes no apologies. And if she's rejected or it doesn't work out, she picks herself up and moves on.

Eponine yawns and stretches, turning over and abruptly snuggling closer to him. Her back presses against his chest, and she grabs his hand and pulls his arm over her waist. Enjolras stiffens as he feels the soft skin of her thighs pressing against his own; he's practically naked, only wearing a pair of thin boxers, and she's still only wearing his t-shirt. Jesus, why did he take his clothes off? He should have known she would barge in.

"Relax, Enjolras," she mumbles. "You might enjoy cuddling if you let yourself."

He's too preoccupied with trying to keep his libido under control to answer, but Eponine doesn't seem to notice or care, and within minutes, she's asleep in his arms. It takes Enjolras much, much longer to drift off, but by the time he does, he feels like there's not a single piece left of him that's empty. She's invaded it all, filled every nook and crevice he possesses.

It's as unsettling as it is comforting.

And he's not sure he likes it.

His body, however, apparently does. He wakes up in the morning with a very obvious problem _down there_ that is pressing rather firmly against Eponine's backside. Enjolras grits his teeth, seething in anger at himself and her for putting him in this position, and when she sighs in her sleep and wriggles her hips even the slightest bit against his, Enjolras practically hisses. He scoots away from her as gently as he can, trying not to wake her up and call attention to the fact that he is so hard it _hurts. _He manages to make it to the bathroom, where he immediately steps into an ice cold shower.

He forces his mind to shut down and absolutely refuses to think about the beautiful woman asleep in his bed, whose sent is invading not only his mind, but now his physical space, as well. Enjolras is ready to kick her the fuck out of his bed and his house by the time he steps out of the shower, when he is hit by the scent of his favorite breakfast – French toast – wafting in from the kitchen.

She's cooking for him. They slept in the same bed and cuddled all night and now she's cooking for him.

What in the hell is going on? This feels scarily domestic and easy, even though he is freaking out, and Enjolras doesn't know what to do. If he wasn't so absolutely certain that they would break each other, this would feel perfect, like puzzle pieces falling perfectly into place.

But they would break each other, and he can't take that chance. And he doesn't know what she's thinking, or if he should say anything at all. This _emotional _stuff, with feelings at stake...he's just not good at it.

He takes a deep breath before stepping into the kitchen. His nerves are still on edge, and his annoyance is high, and he's aware enough to know that it's because he's trying to massively deny what's in front of his face. He knows it, but he's stubborn, and doesn't want to give in.

"Hey," Eponine says softly, and puts a full plate of French toast and maple syrup down at his place at the small table. "I made your favorite to say thank you for letting me invade your bed."

He just grunts in response and sits down heavily. It's only after he's taken a couple of delicious bites that he mumbles a contrite thanks.

"You're welcome." Eponine sits down across from him and he suddenly realizes her eyes are looking mischievous again. A sense of dread fills his stomach when he feels her foot against his leg, and _Jesus, _is she seriously trying to _kill him?_

"Enjoy your, I'm presuming, _cold _shower?"

She's smirking at him. She's actually smirking her cute, knowing little grin at him as she blatantly flirts.

And suddenly, Enjolras is more than enraged. He practically throws his fork down, and he turns the full force of his glare on her as it clatters against his plate.

"Goddammit, Eponine. What the fuck do you want from me?"

She visibly flinches, her eyes going wide, and Enjolras immediately feels like shit, but keeps going anyway.

"I didn't ask for this, Eponine. And you need to _stop._ Just stop."

He runs a frustrated hand through his hair and closes his eyes, digging the heel of his palms into them, trying to rub the vision of her stunned and hurt expression from his memory. Shit. This might not be something he can come back from.

Eponine sits silently for a full minute, completely still. He finally builds enough courage to lower his hands and look at her, and he hates what he sees. She's eerily composed, and slowly pushes herself away from the table, only the slight shaking of her hands betraying her emotions.

She gets up and disappears into his bedroom, emerging again only a minute or so later in her still damp clothes from the night before. She is taking deep breaths, clearly fighting for control, but her eyes are dry.

Eponine stops at the doorway and looks at him, the obvious hurt of rejection apparent in her eyes. "I'm sorry. I thought..." she trails off and shakes her head, biting her bottom lip between her teeth. "I'm sorry."

Without another word, she opens the door and disappears, and Enjolras slumps down in his chair.

He expected her to get mad, to fight back, to defend herself.

And instead he humiliated her so badly she felt it wasn't even worth it, or couldn't even muster up the strength to fight. He knew her well enough to know that was a bad sign - the worst, in fact.

In fighting so hard to try and preserve their friendship, Enjolras had a feeling he had just gone and completely, irreparably fucked it up.

* * *

**Damn, y'all. This is turning out to be one of my favorite things I've ever written. I'm glad you all seem to be enjoying it, too. Thank you SO MUCH for the wonderful reviews and follows on here and tumblr. Sorry I'm not very entertaining over there! :)**

**Please drop me a review and let me know what you think, especially since things took a little bit of a (hopefully) unexpected turn there at the end. THANKS!**


	6. Revelations

**6. Revelations**

They completely avoid each other for the next three weeks, and when forced to be in the same room, Eponine makes quite sure to never be alone with Enjolras. He wants to apologize, but he doesn't know how. With every day that goes by, he knows it is less and less likely she will forgive him, but every time he types out a text asking her if she can come over and talk, his finger just hovers over the 'send' button.

He is so ashamed of his behavior that he can't even look at her, and even though he regrets his actions and harsh words, he is still completely and utterly confused about the way she makes him feel. And still very certain that they wouldn't be good for each other.

It is a whole month before Eponine goes out on another date, and Enjolras is almost relieved when it happens. Maybe it will make things just go back to normal. Maybe the past month of awkward encounters and avoidance will be forgotten and she will waltz right back in at exactly midnight and begin to tease him, right where she left off last time.

It doesn't happen, though. Enjolras is sitting outside on the front steps as she arrives home, in what he sees as an open invitation for her to come over, but she doesn't even glance his way. Eponine walks straight into the house after bidding her date goodbye without so much as a sidelong glance across the street.

Not for the first time, Enjolras feels the full weight of what he did settle over him. He looks blankly after her for a full five minutes before he realizes Courf and Grantaire are taking turns peeking out their living room window at his still form, probably wondering if he fell asleep where he sits. He can't make out their expressions from here, but just knowing his odd behavior is now on their radar is enough to send him retreating back into his own house.

Combeferre is watching a rerun of _Golden Girls _on the couch, but turns the volume down when Enjolras comes in. "Eponine get home okay?"

Enjolras just grunts in response and avoids his gaze, shuffling to his desk in the corner to blatantly sulk.

"Okay then. That's good, I guess..."

Combeferre goes back to watching TV and Enjolras only half-way pays attention to the last ten minutes of the episode. Once it's over, Combeferre bursts out, "Are you ever going to tell me what the hell happened between you two?"

Enjolras just raises an eyebrow in response, pretending he has no idea what 'Ferre is talking about even though he knows perfectly well.

"Eponine won't say a word, but it's obvious she's been miserable. You sulk and pout and glare even more than usual. _Something _happened. You obviously had a huge fight of some sort, but what in the world could have been bad enough to cause all of this bad blood between you?"

"It's none of your concern. I'm sure things will be back to normal before long. She just needs some time to herself." Enjolras' tone holds no room for argument, but Combeferre pushes anyway.

"Are you sure? Because Courf and R said that they heard her crying in her room for two days straight, Enjolras. This is Eponine. The only time I've ever seen her cry is when Gavroche fell out of the tree and broke his arm."

Enjolras is startled by this new information, completely stunned. Combeferre is right. Eponine doesn't cry over anything. She's tougher than tough. He's too lost in his thoughts to respond, but the look on his face must tell Combeferre all he needs to know.

"You really fucked it up, didn't you? What did you do to her?"

"I...I don't know. I mean, I do, but. I didn't think. I didn't _mean _for it to happen or come out the way it did. Shit."

Combeferre waits for him to explain, prompting him to say more with an impatient wave of his hand.

"I might have...rejected her advances a bit harshly."

"'Rejected her advances a bit harshly?' Okay, Mr. Darcy. Can I have a few more details?"

"She came over after a date, when it was raining. I gave her some of my clothes to wear, but she wouldn't put the pants on, so I told her she had to sleep on the couch and I went to bed. But then of course she came in and climbed into my bed and we talked and then she fucking cuddled with me all night and it was...a little bit _uncomfortable _for me in the morning and if she woke up I would have been really embarrassed, so I snuck off to the shower and when I got out, she had made me French toast and she still _wasn't wearing pants."_

Enjolras is getting worked up by this point, the words just flowing out of his mouth of their own accord. Combeferre is now the one looking a little bit stunned as Enjolras' voice raises in pitch the more upset he gets. "She was flirting and gorgeous and I wanted to throw her down on the fucking table, 'Ferre, but I couldn't because I would be the absolute worst boyfriend in the world. We know that. It's a bad idea! And when she started joking about how she knew I had to take a cold shower, I just lost it. And I asked what the hell she wanted from me, and...it was just bad. I told her she just needed to stop. I was an ass."

"Whoa." Combeferre is at a loss for words.

"I know."

"That was...unexpected."

"It was like she wanted to torture me. It was torture, 'Ferre, I swear to God."

Combeferre's expression slowly goes from stunned to mildly amused and patronizing.

"Like she wanted to torture you? Really, Enjolras? You really think that was her sole motivation in sneaking into your bed and making sure you touched her pants-less body?"

Enjolras doesn't answer, as he's not quite sure what Combeferre means.

Combeferre sighs and leans forward, as if he's trying to coax the answer out of the recesses of Enjolras' mind. "Think about it, Enjolras, come on. What do you think she was trying to do?"

"I...don't know?"

Combeferre throws his hands up in exasperation. "She was trying to get you to make a move, you idiot! She was trying to seduce you!"

"What?!"

"Come on, Enjolras! She wasn't _playing _with you, she doesn't do that. She wanted you to _do _something."

Enjolras blinks, Combeferre's word starting to ring true. "Shit."

"Yeah, shit."

"I...wait. So, she...she has feelings for me?"

Combeferre, usually able to easily put up with Enjolras' limited emotional range, says with forced patience, "I think that's pretty obvious, yes, considering that after this she cried for two days, like I said."

"I didn't know..."

"How could you not know that, Enjolras? _How? _ Everybody knows. Even Marius knows."

"Wait, everyone knows that Eponine likes me?"

"Everyone knows you like each _other. _ It's so blatantly obvious. I've never seen you as happy as you are when you're around her. She lights up when she sees you. She's the only one that ever wins arguments against you or who can force you to concede a point. You two sit around and talk for hours and never get bored. So yes, Enjolras, you like her. She likes you. And she was trying to get you to do something about it."

Enjolras is ready to tear his hair out, and practically does. He bolts out of his chair and begins pacing the room. "Why didn't she just say that?! Why did she have to be all..._seductive _and confusing?! I thought she was just teasing me, trying to make me uncomfortable, because she likes doing that, and...shit. And why has she been going on all of these dates if she has feelings for me?! It doesn't make any sense! _Fuck._" It seems another thing Eponine is good at is limiting his rather impressive vocabulary back to the most basic curse words.

"How do you feel about her, Enjolras?"

Enjolras stops and stares at Combeferre.

"I don't know," he mumbles. Even as he says it, he knows it isn't true. He knows exactly how he feels about her, but he also still thinks it's way more complicated than just feelings. Life is way more complicated than just feelings.

"I think you do."

"That's not the point!"

"Whatever. Do you want to fix this?"

"Yes, of course."

"Do you want things to go back to the way they were?"

Enjolras hesitates, a future with Eponine again floating in front of his eyes. It's scary. But now that he's more sure of her feelings, it's much, much more tempting. "I...don't know," he admits honestly.

"Well, I think you owe it to her to at least try and talk it through."

Enjolras nods slowly and turns towards his room, having had all he can take of emotional breakthroughs in one evening. "Yeah..."

"Where are you going?"

"Bed." Enjolras is too preoccupied to utter more, though he knows Combeferre is rolling his eyes behind him.

"Okay...guess I overloaded your circuits. Good night, Enj."

Enjolras closes the door behind him and pulls out his phone, looking down at the screen for at least ten minutes before finally typing out a tentative message.

_Are you awake? I'd like to talk._

He sits on the edge of the bed and waits, hoping she'll text him back immediately.

His phone finally buzzes a few minutes later.

_its late. now isn't the time._

Typical that he still feels a flash of annoyance at Eponine's lack of capitalization and inconsistent punctuation in her text message.

_Tomorrow? Whenever you need. I want to work this out. I don't want to lose you as a friend._

Too late, he realizes that might have been the wrong way to word it, considering he's not even sure he does want to _only _be her friend. But it's too late to correct his mistake.

_I dont think I want to talk yet. You need to give me some space, enjolras._

His heart falls.

_It's been a month, Eponine. Do you think you'll be ready soon?_

And then he realizes he sounds like an ass again, pushing her like all that matters is his feelings. How could someone so intelligent have absolutely no filter? He's just impatient to see her, to figure this out. And he misses her.

_i_ _dunno._

_ Okay. Let me know when you are._

He presses send, then quickly types another message and sends it before he can change his mind.

_I'm sorry I hurt you._

* * *

**Hi! I came home sick from work today, so I got this little chapter done while sitting around with a tissue stuffed up my nose, popping cough drop after cough drop into my mouth.**

**Reviews really picked up in the last chapter and I can't tell you how much I appreciate it! I still get excited every time I see a review in my inbox, and I try my hardest to reply to each and every one!**

**Thank you so much for reading! Only about 4 more chapters left. :) Hope you continue to enjoy!**

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	7. Closing Doors

**7. Closing Doors**

Days go by and Eponine still hasn't contacted him. Enjolras is beginning to wonder if she ever will, if she'll ever have enough time, if she'll ever be ready to move on.

It is with no little amount of trepidation that he realizes the same blue car that dropped her off the last Saturday picks her up on Tuesday evening. That's strange; Eponine doesn't usually go out during the week, considering she has to be at work by 7 am Monday through Friday and sometimes doesn't get home until 6 pm. She's become a real adult, one who sticks to a schedule during the work week and really only goes out on the weekends.

Enjolras is glued to the window on Saturday to see if the same car picks her up again. Alarm bells go off in Enjolras' head as soon as he sees it pull up to the house.

This is the third time in a week. She's never gone out with the same guy even twice before, and now she's seeing the same guy _three times in one week?_

He's even more quiet and withdrawn than usual over the next couple of days, and becomes more so each time he notices the blue car at Eponine's. That Wednesday after the blue car picks her up _again _he can finally take it no more. He has to know who this guy is and what Eponine has said about him. He marches across the street as soon as the car and Eponine are out of sight, hoping to catch Courfeyrac and Grantaire unaware.

He knocks once on the door before just walking in, which isn't unusual for any of them to do, and Grantaire and Courfeyrac wave from their places on the chair and couch. They both have TV dinners in front of them, proof of their bachelor status. Both are just too lazy to cook real food on a nightly basis.

"Hey, Enjolras. You just missed Eponine," Courfeyrac drawls, and Enjolras immediately knows it's a test.

"I know." He decides it's better to get straight to the point. "What do you guys know about the guy she's seeing? What has she said?"

Grantaire and Courfeyrac exchange a look and both sit up a little straighter.

"Taking the direct approach, I see." Grantaire eyes him for a minute before saying slowly, "Why are you asking? And don't bullshit, we want the real reason."

"What do you mean why am I asking? I'm asking because it's been a month and a half since she's spoken to me and I don't like not talking to her. I want to know what she's up to, and since she won't tell me herself, I have to ask you two goons."

"Wrong answer," Courfeyrac shoots at him.

Enjolras throws his hands up in exasperation. "What the hell do you want me to say?!"

"How about...Well, I know I royally fucked things up with the girl I'm in love with and hurt her incredibly bad and I need to know who my competition is so I can win her back? That right, Courf?"

"Sounds about right to me, R."

"You're ganging up on me," Enjolras mutters. "This isn't fair." _And I'm not in love with her,_ he adds in his head.

Grantaire shrugs. "Just be happy Gavroche isn't here. He may only be 18 now, but he could totally kick your ass. And he knows you hurt her. She told him."

"What did she tell you guys?"

"Everything. It took her a few weeks, but the story finally came out. I don't know what you were thinking, Enjolras, but even I thought you knew better than that. I thought you'd take the easy in she was giving you since you have no idea what to do when it comes to relationships. You know even less than I thought, I guess."

"Apparently," he agrees.

Courfeyrac looks alarmed. "Wait, so you're actually admitting you were wrong and screwed up?"

"I don't know." Enjolras rubs his eyes and groans. "Yes, I was wrong in the way I handled it, but Jesus. Everyone keeps talking about how it was direct and easy, but I didn't see it that way. I thought she was fucking with me."

"Eponine doesn't do that." Grantaire points his fork accusingly at him. "You know she doesn't play games."

"It seemed like a game, okay? It really did. We've never discussed how we feel about each other and then there she was in my bed not wearing any pants. I didn't know what to think. How come no one sees this from my point of view?" He's flat out whining and he knows it.

They're all silent for a few minutes, Courfeyrac and Grantaire chewing on their rubbery dinners like members of a jury ready to condemn him.

Finally, Courfeyrac says slowly, "Okay...so. Knowing you and your limited experience and tendency to need things spelled out for you, yes. I can see how you might have been a little bit confused."

"Thank you! Finally."

"I guess I agree," Grantaire concedes. "But now, the question is, what are you doing to try and fix it? And what do you want with her? As the principle men in her life besides Gavroche I feel like it's our duty to make you squirm a little."

Enjolras is squirming indeed; he's never had a conversation like this with his friends, or with anyone, for that matter, and he doesn't like the unfamiliar territory. Not to mention the fact that his answers still aren't even totally clear for himself.

"I just...I want things to be back to normal. I want to be able to talk to her again. I've asked her to talk, but she said she isn't ready. And now she's going out with this guy, apparently."

"Ben," Grantaire supplies helpfully. "His name is Ben. And I have to say, he's pretty good looking, and he's really smart. He's a medical student at Tulane. She met him through a friend, but he knows Joly, too."

"Great. Ben." Enjolras immediately hates the name. It tastes sour on his tongue. "I guess she actually likes him?"

"Looks that way. She seems happy whenever she gets home from a date. He's nice, and pretty funny. He held his own against us the other night when we met them for drinks."

Enjolras can't help but feel a stab of betrayal that his friends went and hung out with this guy. Where was their loyalty to him?

"So what should I do?" he asks, losing patience with the conversation.

"What do you _want?_" Courfeyrac asks. "Do you just want to be her friend or do you want to be something more? Because honestly, Enjolras, unless you're ready to be something more, I don't think she's interested right now. I think she had...or has...real, genuine feelings for you. And you stomped all over them. You saw how long it took her to get over Pontmercy."

Enjolras doesn't answer, just scowls and looks at the floor.

"What do you want?" Grantaire echoes Courfeyrac's question.

"I don't know, okay? I know I feel jealous that she's with someone else, but then I think about what being in a relationship would be like and it seems like so much work and a huge, horrible risk, and...she's obviously got the wrong idea about what dating me would be like. We work so well as friends. I just wish she was satisfied with that."

Grantaire and Courfeyrac share another knowing look, one that clearly says Enjolras is in denial.

"Well then, man, I'm afraid we can't really help you. Not that we're taking sides or anything, but..."

"We're on Eponine's," Grantaire says bluntly, finishing Courf's sentence.

"Traitors." Enjolras stands and flips them off before stalking out and back home. He can hear their snickers behind him, and doesn't miss the fact that he hears them calling him a sucker, either. Not just traitors: idiots.

* * *

The next week, he decides that instead of waiting for her on his own porch, he'll wait on hers. He still doesn't really know what to say, or what she wants him to say, but he wants her to see that he's serious about reconciling and willing to make an effort.

She doesn't even notice him until she's almost ready to take the first step onto the porch.

"Hey," he says quietly, and she jumps about a foot in the air.

"Jesus, Enjolras!" She glares at him and backs up instinctively. "You scared the shit out of me!"

"I'm sorry. I just...I want to talk to you."

She eyes him warily and glances around, as if looking for an easy escape. "I told you I'd text you when I'm ready."

"I know, but...it's been so long, Ep. I just wanted to make sure you're okay."

"I'm fine," she says shortly. "Thanks for your concern."

And just like that, her walls are up.

"What can I say to make this better? Tell me what to say," he pleads. "I don't know what you want to hear."

She smiles a bit sadly and shakes her head. "If you don't know what to say, Enjolras, then there's absolutely nothing _to _say."

She's talking in riddles again, which just confuses him, and Enjolras runs his hands through his hair, leaving his curls standing in every direction. "I'm sorry. Is that enough? I'll say it a million times if you want me to. I'll rent a plane and sky-write it."

She finally smiles at that and sinks down onto the steps next to him, letting out a sigh. "I know you're sorry. And I accept your apology. It's just...it's a little bit confusing, Enj. Yes, we were friends, but we were friends who flirted and teased and it felt so _comfortable. _I thought maybe if we both just jumped in, it would work between us, but obviously I was wrong. And I went about it in such a stupid, totally idiotic way and I should have known better considering it's you I was dealing with. I know I brought this on myself just as much as you did. But" - and it's obvious it's a _big _but - "that doesn't mean we can just let things go back to the way they were."

"Why not?" he asks sadly. "It was so easy."

She turns and looks at him, frowning. "Yes, it was. But I don't want just a friend, Enjolras. I want a boyfriend. Eventually, I want a fiance, and then a husband. And being friends with you, doing what we were doing...it was keeping me from that because I had _all _of the things that go with a relationship with you. Minus the sex," she adds quickly. "And that's...kind of a big part of having a relationship."

Enjolras frowns, digesting her words. "So...it's not going to go back to the way it was with us? Ever?"

Eponine shakes her head slowly. She can tell that he's finally getting it. "No. It's not. Maybe, hopefully soon, we can find some new kind of friendship. But I need to stay away for a while and give myself a chance at finding a real relationship first. I don't want to fall back into old habits and patterns. And I think you deserve more than that, too."

Enjolras turns away and looks out at the street, listening to the sound of the wind rustling through the trees. It smells like rain. "Do you like this guy you're seeing? Ben?"

"How do you know his name?"

"I asked Courf and R."

"Oh. Well, yeah. I like him. I'm giving it a chance beyond just one date, anyway."

"Does it feel like it felt with us?" It's the first time he's ever referred to them as an _us_, and he's surprised by it.

Eponine doesn't answer right away, and her voice sounds a little choked when she finally does. "No. It doesn't feel anything like that. But that's not necessarily a bad thing."

Enjolras turns back to look at her, studying her carefully for a minute. "Okay. I just...I wanted to make sure you're alright. I understand everything; we have boundaries now. I get it."

"Okay."

On impulse, Enjolras reaches out and pulls Eponine into a tight hug. It only lasts a couple of seconds, and she never relaxes in his arms, but Enjolras doesn't care. She's right – if he's not willing to give her what she wants, then he needs to let her go. He wants her to be happy.

He lets go and stands up. "Good night, Eponine."

"Good night, Enjolras." She watches him leave, but by the time Enjolras turns back around to wave once he's across the street, she's already gone inside her house, the door shut firmly behind her.

* * *

**Being sick this weekend means I'm just sitting around writing this or writing lesson plans. (Mostly writing this - the next chapter is already ready to go, too.)**

**And I apologize - I usually make it a point to reply to each and every review I get, but I decided that rather than sit and write back to you all, I would just post another chapter and say a big, huge, HUMONGOUS thank you here. I didn't really expect this story to get any notice, and I'm really excited and happy that it has! Thanks for reading!**

**P.S. Anyone talented enough to make me a cover image for this? I wish I had Photoshop/editing skills...but I don't.**

**Follow me on tumblr at moonlightandmagnolias85 . tumblr . com!**


	8. Books

**8. Books**

One Saturday night, at 3 in the morning, Enjolras finally accepts the fact that Eponine isn't coming home. He's been glancing out the window every five seconds since midnight, only half paying attention to old reruns of _Friends _and _The Nanny _that are playing on Nick-At-Nite. Even the _Yetta's Letters _episode only made him snicker a little bit.

If Eponine isn't coming home, then that means she's staying at Ben's house. And if she's at Ben's house, Enjolras is sure, with 99% certainty, that Eponine is sleeping with him.

He's jealous, flat out. He's not even attempting to ignore the crushing weight in his chest or trying to convince himself that he doesn't care. Enjolras almost calls her right then and there to beg her to come back, tell her that he'll do whatever she wants. That he'll try to be the best boyfriend he can, even though he's still sure he really will suck at it. He'll try.

Then he comes to his senses, the rational side of his brain waking up. If he wasn't willing to do it when he wasn't jealous, then it's asinine to do it just because he is. If he decides he wants to be with her, _when _he decides he wants to be with her, he wants to do it with a clear head.

Instead of calling her, he just goes to bed.

* * *

The next Wednesday is the last day some of the law school interns are working at his firm. It's also only a few weeks now until Christmas, and the bright decorations and tinny little bells that always seem to be ringing are getting on his nerves. Things are way too cheerful, both at the office, and at home. He flat out had to forbid Combeferre from putting up any more Christmas lights and enormous blow-up decorations. _("You are not buying Santa Claus riding a Harley. You hate motorcycles.")_ They already have to leave half the windows open a crack just to run extension cords from the power outlets inside to light up the junk on the lawn. Enjolras has to resist kicking over Santa's damn sleigh every time he walks through their inflatable menagerie.

The law office is also decorated, though not quite as garishly as his own home. His own private space there, though not much bigger than a closet, is completely devoid of decorations and personal touches, just the way he likes it so he can concentrate solely on his work.

Enjolras looks up at the sound of a small knock on his door. It's almost time to go home, anyway, so he doesn't mind being interrupted.

"Mr. Enjolras? Do you have a minute?" One of the interns, a petite blonde girl named Amanda, sticks her head through the door.

"Yeah, sure. Come in." Enjolras pushes his laptop to the side and smiles as she sits down across from his desk. "What's up?"

"Well, since it's my last day and everything, I just wanted to say goodbye. I really enjoyed working with you the last few months. Your dedication and passion for this work is really inspiring."

Enjolras smiles, blushing a little at the compliments. "Wow, thanks. I appreciate that. Also, thank you, in case I never said it. I wouldn't have won the Thompson case if it wasn't for you. You really kept everything in order and ready to go during court and you asked thought-provoking questions. It was great work."

Amanda beams and shrugs. "Thank you. Being here was a great experience."

"How much longer until you graduate from law school?"

"Just this spring semester and then I'm through. Time to start applying for jobs soon, I guess." She grimaces. "I hate trying to sell myself on a resume."

Enjolras doesn't know why he's offering, but he says it anyway. "Well, if you ever need someone to look yours over, you can always e-mail it to me. I'd be happy to help." He reaches over and grabs one of his business cards, handing it to her across the desk.

She takes the card and glances at it for a minute, then looks back up at him with almost a nervous expression on her face. "Thanks...and uh...this may be really inappropriate, but since I'm literally walking out the door in fifteen minutes, I figure it can't hurt..." She chews on her bottom lip and then asks in a rush, "Do you want to go get coffee sometime?"

Enjolras leans back, surprised. "Uh. Like a date?"

"Yeah..."

He studies her, and can't help immediately comparing her to Eponine. They're about the same height, but Eponine (surprisingly) has a lot more curves. She's more womanly than Amanda all around. Her hair is darker, fuller, and longer, her eyes brown instead of blue, her skin a dusky tan instead of almost translucent. Amanda isn't unattractive by any stretch of the imagination, but she is also the complete opposite of Eponine.

Maybe that isn't bad.

He must hesitate for too long, though, because Amanda is now backtracking. "God, I'm sorry. This is embarrassing. Forget I said it."

"No, it's alright. I was just thinking," Enjolras explains, and clears his throat, suddenly nervous. "You know, about whether or not I might get in trouble here. But like you said, you're not working here anymore. So. Yeah. Let's get coffee sometime."

Seriously? What is wrong with him? He can say yes to a casual date with this girl he barely knows, but he can't just admit his feelings to Eponine and take a leap of faith with someone he knows he cares about? That seems twisted.

"Oh." She blinks and seems surprised, but then smiles and grabs a post-it and pen from his desk. "Great then! Here's my number. You can give me a call whenever." She hands him the post-it and they both stand.

Enjolras offers her his hand a little awkwardly and she shakes it. "Yeah, definitely. I'll see you...soon, then."

"Yeah. Bye!" She waves before shutting his office door behind her and Enjolras sinks down into his chair again.

That may have been a massive mistake.

* * *

They go out the next weekend, meeting for coffee at a a quirky little place in the Marigny that Amanda suggests. The conversation is okay, but far from entertaining like it is with Eponine, and Enjolras kind of finds her a little boring, to be honest. (The thought makes him smile, remembering how 'boring' was often a way for Eponine to dismiss her own dates. Now he knows what she means.)

After their coffee, they walk around a bit, going through some of the antique shops and art galleries that are scattered throughout the Marigny and French Quarter. Enjolras is a bit turned around in the maze of streets when Amanda exclaims, "Oh! I love this place. But seriously, no sudden movements or you might actually be buried under a pile of books."

Enjolras glances up at the sign, which simply reads "Books" before they go in. Straight-forward. Simple. He likes it.

They step into the shop and Enjolras stops short. Amanda wasn't kidding. There are literally books piled up to the ceiling in what look to be extremely precarious stacks. There doesn't seem to be any real order to them, either – no categorization or discernible system at all. They're just _there._

"You weren't kidding. This place could topple over like a bunch of dominos."

"I know. Even though it's kind of intimidating, if you're willing to just dig a little bit, you can sometimes find some really great stuff."

So, she likes books, Enjolras surmises. That makes her a little more interesting, in his opinion.

"Do you want to look around or is this really boring for you?" Amanda asks uncertainly.

Enjolras is actually itching to start skimming titles – what if there are rare editions in this place, treasures hidden in the midst of chaos? "Please. This is my kind of place. Meet back here in twenty minutes?"

"Sure. See you in a few." Amanda smiles and heads upstairs on very rickety stairs, as Enjolras turns and begins glancing through the first stack of books he sees.

Most have titles he has never heard of before, but he sees multiple copies of popular books, too, some really battered and cheap and some that are practically brand new. He doesn't see anything that looks very unusual or rare, though, so he makes his way carefully to the counter where a middle-aged guy is reading a magazine.

"Hi. I was wondering – do you have any rare books? First editions and the like?"

"Oh, yeah. Definitely. I don't keep them out here, though. Follow me." The guy hops off his stool and gestures for Enjolras to come around the counter and enter a room in the back.

As soon as he is through the door, Enjolras is hit with the smell of musty old paper and ink, his favorite smell in the world. He used to smell it in the library stacks at school, and when people weren't watching, he was known to actually bury his face in a book and inhale. If he could somehow manufacture this smell, he absolutely would.

This room, unlike the rest of the shop, is completely organized. In fact, this is probably the way the guys makes most of his money, in finding and selling rare books.

"What kind of stuff are you interested in?" the man asks. "I've got quite a selection."

"Good question."

Enjolras contemplates for a minute, and of course, Eponine's face pops into his mind. He hasn't gotten her a Christmas present, wasn't even sure that he should. But, if there's one person in the world that loves books as much as he does, or close to it, it's Eponine. Books were her escape when she was a little girl, she often told him; going to the movies cost money and kids weren't allowed in bars, but libraries were free. So Eponine and Azelma would hop on the bus or street car and head to the library on St. Charles Avenue almost every day of their childhood. They spent hours in the massive, converted mansion turned library after school until it closed, and even had a favorite spot on the third floor for naps. (One would sleep while the other played look-out.)

As much as that story made him ache for her, she never seemed saddened by it. Instead, her eyes would light up when she recalled all of the books she'd read as a child, both to herself and out loud to her sister. They made her believe, even if only for a little while, that happy endings were possible, she said.

And her favorite book in the world, by far, Enjolras knows, is _Jane Eyre_. She relates to it in a deep, visceral way, even though the actual circumstances of the novel and her life aren't totally alike. She says it's because Jane, or maybe the author, Charlotte Bronte, is a kindred spirit. ("Just like you are," he hears her telling him.)

"Do you have any old editions of _Jane Eyre?_ I have a friend who really loves it. It would be a great Christmas present for her."

"Did you know Christie's in New York sold a first edition of Jane Eyre a few years ago for $40,000? Don't have that kind of money, do you?" The man grins at Enjolras and climbs a ladder to inspect some of the books near the top shelf.

Enjolras lets out a low whistle. "Wow. No, not quite that much."

The man pulls three boxes from from the shelf and climbs down. One book is inside each box, wrapped carefully in paper and insulated from the humidity of New Orleans. "Obviously, I don't have a first edition floating around, but I do have a very old one, and two that are still worth a pretty penny, though they're not as old. This one is from 1978 – a collector's edition. It's in mint condition." He hands it to Enjolras to inspect.

It is a beautiful book, leather bound, the pages silky between his fingers. It's in very good shape, but almost seems too new. Part of the charm of books is the fact that they feel old, and this one feels like any old copy he could go pick up at Barnes and Noble.

"I don't think this one is it. What about the others?"

"This one is from 1956. It's nothing special, just a cheap printing. But this one is a beauty. It's a 1910 edition, and even though it's rough around the edges, it's still in good shape. It's a nice collector's item."

Enjolras holds it in his hands for only a few seconds before he asks, "And how much does something like this go for?"

"They can sell on eBay for a lot of money. How much are you willing to spend?"

"How much is it worth?"

"I can let you have it for $1500."

Enjolras' eyes widen. "That much, huh?"

The man shrugs. "Check eBay if you want. You'll see some there and what they're going for."

Enjolras pulls out his phone and fiddles for a minute, checking to see if the man's estimate is right. In short, it is.

Enjolras looks at him and says calmly, "Look. The girl I want to give this to...I'm kind of crazy about her, and she's seeing someone else right now, and that's my fault. I had a chance with her and I blew it. But she deserves something special and she would love this. How much are you willing to take pity on me?"

The guy grins and studies Enjolras knowingly. "Ah, young love. Are you just giving it to her to be nice or do you want her back?"

"Well, I never really had her in the first place, but..." he shuffles his feet awkwardly for a minute, but then says with certainty, "I want her back, yeah."

It feels like a weight has been lifted off his chest now that he has admitted it out loud.

"Well, just for that, and because it's Christmas, I can let you have it for twelve-hundred."

"How about nine-hundred?"

"Eleven-hundred."

"Nine-fifty."

"An even thousand, and that's absolutely taking pity on you, son."

Enjolras grins and follows the man back out to pay for the book. Amanda is standing by the counter, obviously looking for him.

Though Enjolras knows he will probably never see her again, at least not in a dating capacity, he will always remember this day with her as (hopefully) the day he decided to get his ass into gear and go after his girl.

The one he actually loves.

* * *

**I'm beginning to think I update too fast because reviews really fell off in the last chapter. Please let me know what you think of this one!**

**And feel free to play the "how much of this chapter is real?" game. hehe Because a LOT of it is! If you're curious, I can let you know exactly what.**

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	9. Sweetest Friend

**9. Sweetest Friend**

_you and me we've both got sins_

_and i don't care about where you've been_

_don't be sad and don't explain_

_today's the day we start again_

Enjolras tells absolutely no one of his purchase or his plans. If something goes wrong, he doesn't want to be the subject of their empathetic stares and Jehan's sympathy brownies. He does decide, however, that he isn't going to wait until Christmas to confess his feelings to Eponine. Christmas is a perfect holiday for couples – visiting families, snuggling by a fire on Christmas Eve, waking up together on Christmas morning – and he can't risk Eponine becoming closer to Ben by being with him then.

He waits until Friday at 5 pm, just as the winter sun is setting, and exactly twelve days before Christmas, to call Eponine. He has already heard from Grantaire that she's staying home that evening instead of going out with Ben, so he knows he has to seize his opportunity while it's there.

She answers on the second ring.

"Hey, it's me. Do you have a few minutes tonight to come over? I just need to talk to you about something..." His voice sounds strange to his own ears, a little too nervous and high pitched.

It must sound strange to her, too, because she immediately thinks it's something bad. "Are you alright?"

"Yes! I'm fine. I just need to talk to you."

"Are you sure?" He can imagine her frowning at her phone.

"Yes. Please, can you come by? I'll be here all night." He crosses his fingers.

"Uh...well, yeah. I guess so. Give me about an hour and I'll be there." She sounds a little apprehensive, but at least she's agreed.

"Great. Okay, I'll see you then."

Enjolras hangs up the phone and his nerves hit him all at once; suddenly, he's sweating bullets, even though it's only fifty-two degrees outside. He goes into the kitchen and opens the freezer, sticking his head in and breathing deeply. He's never told a girl he loves her before; hell, he's never even felt like this before.

"Uh...Enjolras? You okay there?" Combeferre appears next to him and Enjolras cringes.

"Oh, hey. Yeah, I'm fine. Just cooling off..."

Combeferre raises his eyebrows, but he's more used to Enjolras' weird quirks than anyone, so he just shrugs it off. "Okay, then. You aren't sick, are you?"

"Nope. Just hot."

"You don't need me to stay home?"

"Absolutely not. Get out of here."

"Okay then..." Combeferre gives him one last strange look, but backs off and grabs his keys, heading out to his girlfriend's house.

Enjolras eventually calms down enough to take his head out of the freezer, but then he starts pacing. He doesn't really have anything planned except confessing his feelings and hoping she feels the same. He doesn't have a beautiful, romantic dinner ready or hundreds of candles scattered throughout the room. Should he? Should he make a bigger gesture?

He's almost ready to call Jehan for reinforcements when Eponine knocks on the door.

Instead of walking in like she used to, she waits like a normal person for him to answer. It's disappointing, and Enjolras hopes things go back to normal immediately.

"Hi." She smiles up at him when he opens the door and Enjolras is sure his answering smile comes out more like an uncomfortable grimace. "So what do you need to talk to me about?"

Enjolras clears his throat and gestures for her to come in. Shit. He didn't plan on how to start. Should he just blurt it out while they're standing here? Or should he try and lead up to it and make some fancy speech?

No. This is Eponine. She doesn't need or want fancy speeches. She just wants the truth, always.

He should probably at least ask her to sit down before he tells her he loves her, though.

"Come in first. We should probably sit..." He follows her over to the couch and sits nervously next to her, wiping his sweaty hands on his jeans.

"Enjolras, you're acting really weird. Are you sure you're okay?"

He isn't, actually. Now he's pretty sure he might actually be sick. Saying how he feels has never been easy for him, and even though he is absolutely sure he wants to do this, it's still one of the most difficult things he's ever done. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth and it's difficult to talk.

Eponine reaches over and feels his forehead. ""You're kind of pale."

He gently swats her hand away. "Stop, stop. I'm fine. It's just...I have something to tell you and I don't know where to start."

"The beginning is always a good place."

Enjolras runs a hand through his hair and asks uncertainly, "Eponine, that night...or morning...when I messed everything up. Were you...were you trying to...you know...?"

She rolls her eyes and asks a bit testily, "Are we really going to talk about this?"

"Please. I just need to know. What did you want to happen?"

Eponine, who has never been one to sugar coat things and is clearly now annoyed at him for bringing it up again, glares. "What do you think I wanted, Enjolras? I was wearing your t-shirt and nothing else, sleeping in your bed and giving you food, practically throwing myself at you. I wanted you to finally, _maybe, possibly _get a clue and fuck me."

Well, now that's clear, at least. He blushes to the roots of his hair, but holds her gaze.

"Yeah. Well, clearly, I'm an idiot, Eponine. I didn't quite get it at the time."

"Clearly."

It's now or never, so he dives in. "But I wanted to."

"Wanted to what?"

"As you so delicately put it..._fuck _you. I wanted to."Enjolras can't believe he said that.

Now it's Eponine's turn to blush. Her mouth opens into a perfect 'o' shape before she snaps it closed. He's never managed to make her speechless before and he feels pretty proud of himself.

"I...okay..." She shakes her head and takes a deep breath, finally regaining control and asking, "And you thought I was just messing with you? That's what R said."

"Yeah, I did. I just...I was stupid. I didn't realize that it actually meant something to you, that _I _meant something to you."

She scoffs and glances at him again, and Enjolras is surprised to see her eyes look a little wet. "Seriously, Enjolras? You really thought you didn't mean anything to me?"

"I didn't know, Eponine. I only know what you mean to me, and I didn't even realize for a long time that it could be something more with us. I didn't think I wanted it."

"Just say it then, Enjolras." Her eyes meet his and he can see the challenge there. "What do I mean to you? What do you want? Now?"

This is his one chance. If he messes up, she won't let him in again. Eponine doesn't give people third and fourth and fifth chances. Enjolras can tell she is trying to disguise the hope in her voice, and it fuels his own.

Taking a deep breath, he says firmly, "I want you. I don't want to be just your friend, I don't want things to go back to the way they were like I said before. I want to be with you. I'm in love with you, Eponine."

He holds his breath, searching her face for any signs, good or bad.

She sucks in a breath and chews on her lip. After what feels like an agonizing fifty year wait, she asks softly, "Are you sure? Because it's _hard _being in a relationship, Enjolras. It's really hard."

"I'm sure. I'm absolutely sure."

His voice is steady and his nerves are gone. She wants this, too.

Suddenly, Eponine laughs, and the sound completely fills him up inside. When she reaches over and runs her fingers through his hair, Enjolras instinctively leans into her touch. "Well then, I guess it's a good thing I broke up with Ben last weekend."

"You did?"

"Yeah, I did. I knew I wasn't being fair to him, since I was still kind of hung up on this other guy..."

She pokes his chest accusingly and Enjolras grabs her hand, bringing it gently to his mouth and brushing his lips over her knuckles, which effectively shifts the mood to something more sensual. He was always on the edge of serious desire when she was around, but now Enjolras has to hold himself back. He wants to throw her down on the floor and make her scream his name, but he's pretty sure if they're going to be together, he should be patient.

Enjolras watches her from underneath his lashes as he slowly kisses each of her fingers. Eponine stills at the gesture, her smile disappearing into a look of curiosity. It's the most affectionate he has ever been with her, and she's obviously a little taken aback.

"So we're doing this?" she finally asks pensively. "We're...'together' now?" She adds the air quotes for effect, then moves her hands back to his hair, tugging on his curls teasingly.

"You tell me. I'm in for the long haul, Eponine."

"Then kiss me," she challenges.

And just like that, she's right back to bossing him around. And he doesn't mind, at least not in this case. Enjolras pulls her closer and leans in slowly. A deep, steady burn spreads from each point of contact between them – his hand at her waist, her arm snaking around his neck, and finally, her lips against his. Fire burns through him, but it isn't destructive – instead he feels like a phoenix rising from the ashes, like Eponine is making him brand new again.

Eponine makes a soft, contented sound in the back of her throat as his lips move against hers, and Enjolras immediately pulls her into his lap, settling her legs on either side of his hips. It's not soft or gentle anymore as they both begin to wrestle for control. His hands wander under her shirt, caressing the soft skin of her back and stomach and ghosting over her breasts. Eponine arches into his touch and pulls his bottom lip between her teeth before soothing it with her tongue. When she rocks her hips against him, Enjolras pulls his lips away from hers and moves his attention to her neck, sucking on the pulse point there. He can feel how fast her heart is beating and it makes him smile against her skin.

Eponine is rapidly unbuttoning his shirt and trying to pull it from his shoulders while still staying near him. He breaks away only long enough to shrug it off and toss it aside, and since their contact is already broken, he lifts Eponine's shirt, too. She holds up her arms and lets him pull it off and Enjolras openly stares at her breasts. He really, really loves her breasts, and he tells her so in a totally uncharacteristic confession. His head is spinning.

Eponine throws her head back and laughs at him. "Oh, really? I had no idea, since I _never _catch you staring at them or anything..." She grins wickedly, not embarrassed or modest in the slightest, but seemingly enjoying his reaction. She reaches behind her and swiftly unhooks her bra, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

Enjolras squirms as the silky fabric falls away, his arousal straining against his jeans. He still stares, but makes no move to touch her, so Eponine takes his hand and guides it to her left breast. She then leans forward and breathes into his ear, "You can touch now, you know," which immediately breaks him out of his reverie.

He slowly squeezes the soft flesh, running his thumb over her nipple, and is gratified when she closes her eyes and braces herself with her hands on his chest. Enjolras leans forward and trails feather light kisses down her neck to her other breast. She gasps as he pinches, sucking and biting just enough to hurt.

"Jesus, Enj...I didn't...oh, fuck. I didn't know you knew how to do this."

He glances at up at her and blushes. "I'm not a total novice."

"Obviously not." Her hands grip his shoulders and wrap around his neck and she pulls herself flat against him, her breath hot against his ear. He runs his hands slowly down her spine and feels her shiver at his touch.

"So this is what it feels like kissing you," she says quietly, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. She lowers her mouth to his ear, biting his earlobe and then sucking just beneath it. "Better than I expected."

"Bedroom?" he asks breathlessly. The feeling of her skin against his is almost more than he can take.

"Please."

He manages to stand while still holding onto her, and Eponine wraps her legs firmly around his waist. She is still sucking on his neck and he is surprised he can even walk with how rubbery his legs feel. He misses the bedroom door by a few feet and hits the wall instead. Eponine giggles, then gasps as he pins her against it and roughly gyrates against her, his mouth crashing against hers. His erection rubs against her center and his hands squeeze her ass. He is absolutely desperate to feel all of her. Eponine moans into his neck, gripping his shoulders tightly and digging her heels into his back.

"Hurry up," she says breathlessly, tugging roughly on his hair to pull his lips away from her jaw.

Enjolras finally makes it away from the wall and into the bedroom, managing to kick the door shut after them, just in case Combeferre comes home early. (He'll already know something is up considering the trail of clothing they left behind in the living room.) Enjolras lays Eponine on the bed as gently as he can, where she immediately unbuttons her jeans and shimmies out of them. He freezes as he watches her, blatantly enjoying the view again when he feels her hands at his waist. She drags her nails over his stomach and then boldly squeezes his bulging cock through his jeans.

"Fuck," he chokes out as Eponine deftly unbuttons his jeans and begins tugging them down his hips. His boxers immediately follow and Eponine is now the one staring. She smiles up at him suggestively before letting her eyes wander down his chest to his erection, now free from his pants.

She bites her lip and cocks her head. "You'll do," she says teasingly and laughs when he glares at her. "I'm kidding. It's...impressive."

He's definitely a little embarrassed to be on display in all of his glory, but is also cognizant enough to find it interesting that the completely masculine side of his brain finds intense gratification that she seems satisfied with his size. He was never the kind of guy to compare himself to others or really give a shit at all, but he's definitely feeling a little bit of pride now.

"Thanks? I guess," he mumbles, and leans over to kiss her again. She takes his hands and begins to lean back on the bed, pulling him on top of her. Just a few moments ago, their touches were hurried and rough; now, they are slower, more sensual. Their eyes lock and Eponine smiles, opening her legs to cradle him between her thighs.

"I've wanted you for so long," he admits breathlessly, and slowly begins kissing her jaw, sucking and nipping just under her chin.

"You should have done something about it sooner." She moves her hips against him and Enjolras groans as his cock pushes against her wet heat.

"We have forever now," he says, and is immediately surprised by his words. Is he already thinking in those terms? He supposes so – he isn't going into this blindly. He has intentions, as he knows she does. She wants a life partner; she's told him so. And he is willing to bet that if he just tries hard enough, he can be that for her.

She pulls his face back to hers and studies him for a minute, then kisses him roughly again and mumbles against hist lips, "You...in me. Now."

Enjolras easily lifts her hips and carefully pushes into her. Eponine sighs and clenches around him as she adjusts to his length. His movements are slow and steady, and Eponine matches his pace, her hands and heels finding his ass and pushing him deeper into her.

"Oh, fuck," she gasps as he hits a sensitive spot, and Enjolras is inspired to move a bit faster.

Suddenly, pain blossoms in his shoulder as she bites down on him, though he has to admit it isn't completely unpleasant. "Ow! Jesus, Eponine."

"Harder," she commands, and he obediently picks up the pace, beginning to slam roughly into her.

She throws her head back and pushes him away for a moment, only long enough to lift up her legs and hook them over his shoulders. He freezes, completely in awe of her previously unknown flexibility and even more turned on now, if possible, before she glares at him. "Why did you stop? Don't stop, Enjolras."

"Sorry," he mumbles, and pushes into her again, this new position allowing him to go even deeper.

"Shit. _Fuck._" Now he's the one cursing as she deliberately clenches her walls around his cock. They're both sweating now, all sweaty and tangled limbs, random curses and moans filling the air. She's apparently a biter, too, he quickly realizes, as she's now left several more marks across his shoulders and neck. And interestingly, he likes it. He likes that she's marking him as he is moving inside of her.

He feels himself losing control just after he thinks she is – her hands are grabbing at his hair and her breath is short, so he speeds up, moving into her so hard he's afraid the bed is actually going to break underneath them.

When she starts half gasping and half screaming his name, he loses complete control, his vision going white. She comes just before he does, clutching his arms and leaving scratches across his back. He finally spills inside of her and slowly lowers his weight onto her, still absolutely floored. She moves her legs and pushes his damp hair from his forehead, her fingers now soothing the scratches she's left on his skin. He doesn't want to move, ever, so he stays inside of her, leaving a trail of slow, appreciative kisses all over her breasts. He's fairly certain now that she's a goddess; a living, breathing, goddess that is his to pleasure and keep.

She takes a deep breath. "Wow...I didn't expect...huh." Her voice is full of wonder and he looks up at her and laughs low in his throat.

"I don't think I've ever seen you as speechless as you have been today."

"Can you blame me?" She raises her eyebrows and rotates her hips against him. He finds himself already getting hard again inside of her.

"No. That was..."

"Fucking fantastic," she finishes for him. "I have absolutely no intention of leaving this room this entire weekend. And I'm completely serious. I don't care what work you have to do."

Enjolras laughs and finally pulls away, kissing her forehead as she frowns at the feeling of him pulling out of her.

"Okay," he agrees. "Then we're not leaving this room."

"Really?" She looks skeptical and narrows her eyes.

"You might have to convince me a little bit more." He lays on his back and stares at the ceiling, and it's all he can do to keep from grinning like an idiot.

"Challenge accepted."

* * *

**Eep. Hey! Smut! In an extra long chapter.**

**So, I hope y'all liked that.**

**Reviews absolutely BLEW UP for the last chapter, but I didn't get a single notification for any of them. If I didn't reply to yours, that's why. But please let me know what you thought of this. I hope it was satisfying! There's one more chapter left, and perhaps an epilogue - it depends on whether or not it feels finished at the end of the next one. :) THANKS FOR READING!**

**P.S. The title of this chapter and lyrics at the beginning are from the song "Come to Me" by the Goo Goo Dolls. I'm not a huge fan of them, but when I heard this song on the radio, I immediately thought of Enjolras and Eponine and it really kind of inspired this whole story!**


	10. Forward

**10. Forward**

When he finally falls asleep, his dreams are filled with Eponine. His body has never been more relaxed or his mind as content as he is when she finally settles in his arms. Her back is pressed against his chest, just like a few months before (when he _almost _ruined everything), except this time there is no clothing separating them. Their legs are tangled together, his arm draped over her waist, and she holds his hand loosely over her heart. Even in his sleep, his lips find the curve of her neck and kiss it gently. Enjolras has never felt so simultaneously invigorated and exhausted – by the time they fall asleep, she has absolutely rocked him. He never knew sex could be so incredibly intense, and though he is known for being fairly modest, the things she's gotten him to do (without much persuasion at all) would make even Courfeyrac blush.

He hasn't gotten nearly enough sleep when he begins to slowly waken. His mind is groggy, but he lets out a soft moan when he feels Eponine's mouth moving over his chest and stomach. She nips at his skin, then soothes it with her tongue, pushing the sheets lower and lower as she moves down his body. Though he is obviously aroused, Enjolras is so tired that after a few minutes, he is almost asleep again.

Then he feels her bite his hipbone and glances down at her through hooded eyes. She is looking up at him wickedly, happy that she has finally gotten his attention, and slowly lowers her mouth to his erection. She takes only the tip in her mouth and swirls her tongue around it.

Now Enjolras is definitely awake and squirming as a strangled sound escapes his throat. This may be the best way to wake up he's ever experienced.

Eponine pulls away for a moment and says in a voice still laced with sleep, "Good morning. _So _sorry to wake you, but..." she shrugs and takes him fully in her mouth again, scraping her teeth over his member.

Enjolras barely recognizes the sounds coming from his own body; he has never felt anything so good as her warm, wet mouth on his cock, and she obviously knows what she's doing. Her hair is tangled in his fist before long, and she is watching his reaction somewhat gleefully. She obviously loves being the one to do this to him, to make him lose control when no one and nothing else in the world really does.

After a minute, his hips begin to buck involuntarily and Eponine pulls away and straddles him, lowering herself onto his length in one swift motion. In all his life, Enjolras has never seen anything or anyone as beautiful as her in this moment, with her hair loose and long around her shoulders, her head thrown back, and her bottom lip caught between her teeth. He thrusts up into her and groans when she begins to touch herself, her fingers squeezing her own nipples. Enjolras grabs her hips and Eponine whimpers, moving her hips in a slow circle. She gasps when Enjolras moves his hand between them, his thumb finding her clit and pressing hard against it.

"Enjolras! Oh, God!" Eponine pants his name again as he continues his ministrations. He is tempted to shush her in case Combeferre is home and in the next room, but he's too far gone to really care, and he finds the fact that she's loud incredibly hot.

She leans forward to kiss him, and Enjolras groans into her mouth as her breasts brush against his chest. After a moment, Eponine whimpers and sits back up, beginning to move faster. He reaches up to cup her breasts and she covers his hands with her own, her back arched as she rides him hard. She comes with a strangled cry and Enjolras follows soon after, thrusting up and into her even after her body relaxes around him. When he is finally still underneath her, Eponine opens her eyes and looks down, taking his hands and squeezing them gently. She shakes her head and giggles incredulously, moving to lie next to him on the bed. Enjolras rolls onto his side and wraps his arms tightly around her, hooking one leg over her hips to keep her as close as possible.

She rests her head under his chin and kisses his neck, now rough with stubble. "You're incredible."

"You're not so bad yourself."

She pulls away a little bit to look at him and he can see the wonder in her eyes. "You really meant it, didn't you? You love me."

"Yes. I don't say things I don't mean...most of the time, anyway."

"I know." Her thumb gently traces his face, from his strong jaw up to his eyebrows and back down to his lips. Enjolras leans forward and kisses her until he's breathless, their tongues dancing together. She reluctantly pulls away and looks at him seriously, almost nervously.

"I love you," she says carefully, as if testing the words out on her tongue. "I love you. And I've never said that to anyone before."

"Welcome to the club. It can't bode well, can it, that we're both totally inexperienced when it comes to this?"

She smiles and shrugs. "Jehan would find it incredibly romantic."

Enjolras laughs. "He would. He will, when he finds out. And, you know, maybe it's not a bad thing. I don't think you have to love more than one person in your lifetime."

"Do you plan to?"

"What, love more than one?" He raises an eyebrow and she nods. Enjolras kisses her forehead and says honestly, "I don't plan to. It's you, Eponine. In fifty years, it's still going to be you. I absolutely promise that I'll try to make you happy for the rest of my life."

She takes a shaky breath and looks simultaneously fulfilled and scared shitless. "I don't know how to be with someone. I want to, but I don't know how. I'm way more fucked up than you even know."

He shakes his head and says firmly, "Stop it. I do know. I don't know everything about you and you don't know everything about me, but it doesn't matter. We'll figure it out."

"Yeah..." She sighs and then grins, shifting the mood. "And whatever, because the sex is fucking amazing."

Enjolras laughs. "Agreed."

"Okay..." Eponine stifles a yawn and snuggles closer to him, closing her eyes. "It's time for more sleep. I just couldn't resist you before, but it's way too early for normal human beings to be awake."

"Not that I minded, but seriously, let's sleep this time or we're not going to have the energy to do more of that later."

"Mmmhmm." She's already asleep, and Enjolras follows soon after.

* * *

Hours later, around mid-day, Enjolras finally wakes up. Careful not to wake Eponine, he slips out of bed and into the bathroom, intending to take a shower and then make some lunch for them both. She's probably as hungry as he is, considering they skipped dinner last night and breakfast this morning in favor of more _entertaining _activities.

He lets the hot water run over his body for a few minutes before the bathroom door opens and Eponine slips in, climbing into the shower with him.

"Hi," she says impishly, wrapping her arms around his torso and resting her head on his chest.

"Hi."

They stand there silently for a few more minutes, wrapped together, before Eponine grabs the shampoo and begins to wash his hair. He does the same for her when she's finished, then grabs a wash cloth and soap and turns her around, washing her back and bottom. He's now completely aroused (again...and wondering how many times they are actually going to manage to do this before the weekend is over), when she presses her ass firmly onto his erection. He grabs her waist to steady himself and Eponine takes his hand and guides it around her, pulling it lower. She straightens against him, wrapping an arm around his neck and tangling her hand in his hair.

"Touch me," she commands.

Enjolras wraps his other arm around her and cups her breast as he slowly dips a finger inside of her. She whimpers as he adds another, beginning to pump them steadily in and out of her, his thumb circling her clit. She's making the most incredible sounds as he touches her, and he can finally take no more without satisfying himself. She gasps when he roughly bends her over and plunges into her from behind with no warning.

"I really...oh, fuck...like this side of you," Eponine pants as her hands grip the edge of the built in seat in the shower. "I want you to make me fucking scream, Enjolras."

He doesn't reply, but pushes into her harder and faster, one hand holding her hips steady and the other finding it's way back around her body to tease her swollen clit with his fingers. She curses and clenches around him, slamming her own hips back into him to cause more friction. He is moving as fast as he can and knows he can't last much longer. He pinches Eponine's clit between his fingers and is satisfied when she lets out a short shriek, her fingers clawing against the wall. He feels her shudder as she reaches her climax, and she screams again. He only lasts a few more seconds before he slams into her one final time, spilling his load inside of her. He pulls out of her and holds her firmly against him, leaning forward to rest his forehead against her back. His heart races and his breaths are short. Sex with Eponine is apparently something akin to a marathon, and he begins to wonder if he should start working out more so he can continue to keep up.

"I don't know if I'm going to be able to walk on Monday," Eponine teases. "Maybe we'll just have to lock ourselves away and not go to work until after Christmas. Or New Year's."

"Don't tempt me," he says seriously, and kisses her shoulder. "If I had known being with you would be like this, I would have gotten my ass into gear much earlier."

She turns around and wraps her arms around his neck. "It's probably not going to stay like this, you know. We're in the honeymoon phase. It's just a _really, really _intense one."

"Then I intend to enjoy it while it lasts." He kisses her again, more than happy to go for another round, when they are interrupted by the sound his growling stomach.

Eponine pulls away and laughs. "I think you need food first. And I'm actually pretty hungry, too. I really want pizza."

Enjolras groans. "Oh my God, yeah. Please, lets order from Slice."

"Holy shit, I knew there was a reason I love you."

She squeezes his ass, then steps away and stands under the water for a minute more before reaching over to turn it off. Enjolras just watches her, the sudden realization of how _normal _this feels hitting him. They are talking and treating each other like they always have, except with the addition of the most incredible sex of their lives and completely overwhelming feelings. But they're still _them. _It feels the same, but better. He is still comfortable with her, as comfortable as he is when he's alone with his own thoughts. He now pities the poor bastards of the world that never find someone like this.

They step out of the shower and Eponine wraps a towel around her body, tucking it in securely. She frowns as they go back into the bedroom and Enjolras grabs his clothes.

"Shit. I don't have any clothes here."

"Well, we'll have to change that. But you can wear mine for now." He tosses her a pair of his boxers and a t-shirt and says seriously, "And please, put the shorts on this time because I really am hungry and though fucking you is incredible, I need food first."

She drops the towel and glares at him for a minute, slowly pulling on the clothes. He just watches, finally turning away and clearing his throat, to get dressed himself.

Suddenly, a loud creak from the hallway stops him in his tracks. He glances at Eponine, his eyebrows raised, and looks at the door. Whispered voices are now discernible, though he can't make out what they're saying. There's no doubt, however, that their friends have now figured out where they are (or where he is) and are probably incredibly curious about the girl he's been shut up in his room with for almost the last twenty-four hours. They probably suspect it's Eponine, though, considering she didn't go home last night.

She looks delighted and covers her mouth so they won't hear her laugh. "Oh my God, this is going to be fun," she whispers to him. "Leave your shirt off _please_," she begs.

"Why?" he hisses back to her. "Like they won't get the clue about what we're doing even if I'm wearing a shirt?"

She lightly smacks his chest. "It will just be more fun!" When he pulls it on anyway, she glares at him and sticks her tongue out. "Fine. Party pooper."

Eponine sashays over to the door and takes a deep breath, glancing at him over her shoulder. Then she opens the door and puts her hands on her hips, surveying the now guilty-looking men standing on the other side.

Courfeyrac is holding her bra in his hands, but immediately drops it when he sees her, Grantaire is actually looking fairly bored, Prouvaire begins clapping delightedly, and Combeferre looks exhausted as he leans against the wall, which he slowly begins banging his head against.

"Oh my God, I knew it," he whines. "I can't unhear the things I heard last night and this morning. This is awful."

Courf's mouth falls open and he looks from Eponine to Enjolras. "Holy. Shit. How did this happen?"

Eponine moves past him, patting his head patiently. "Well, Courf, when a man and a woman are attracted to each other, sometimes..."

"Shut up!" He covers his ears with his hands. "Combeferre already enlightened us way too much on the shit he's experienced. Now that we know it was you in there with him, I don't want to think about it!"

Eponine bends to pick up her bra. "Yes, well. It turns out Enjolras is pretty damn good in bed." She winks at him and he blushes, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. "I apologize for keeping you awake, Combeferre, but just as a heads up, you might want to vacate the premises for the rest of the weekend."

'Ferre looks at her in disbelief, then hangs his head, looking totally defeated. He doesn't answer.

Jehan wraps an arm around Eponine's shoulders and leads her into the living room. "I'm so happy for you guys. It took y'all long enough, but we all knew it had to be coming. Or we hoped it would be coming, anyway. Good for you."

Enjolras follows them out of the room, stopping near Combeferre. "Look, I'm sorry about...being loud," he mumbles. "It's just...really new, and it's amazing, and we got carried away."

Combeferre looks at him and glares. "Enjolras, this is an old house. The walls are thin. My bed is on the other side of the wall from yours. Do you have any idea what it's like listening to your best friends bang each other?"

Enjolras winces. "Yeah, I get you. Probably not pleasant. But listen...like Eponine said, if you wouldn't mind leaving for the rest of the weekend..."

Courfeyrac and Grantaire burst into laughter at Enjolras' words, practically doubling over in their mirth. "Oh my God! This is the greatest thing that has ever happened to me!" Courfeyrac cries. "Enjolras the sex God. Holy shit."

"Where the hell am I supposed to go?!" Combeferre whines.

Grantaire snorts. "You do have a girlfriend, too, 'Ferre. Why don't you stay with her? Or..." he laughs again and points across the street. "If Eponine is here, there's a perfectly good unused room with us. I'm sure she wouldn't mind."

"No, I wouldn't!" Eponine can apparently hear their conversation and offers her consent.

"Fine. Jesus. Kicked out of my own house, this is ridiculous. I'm packing a bag." Combeferre stomps off to his own room and Enjolras shrugs, feeling a little bit guilty but totally not at the same time. He's way too happy to really care.

He goes into the living room and sits next to Eponine on the couch. She has his laptop open and is looking at the menu for Slice, the best pizza place in New Orleans. "Would you guys like to stay for pizza?"

Courf and Grantaire plop down on the floor and sprawl out under the Christmas tree next to Jehan. "I wouldn't mind," R says.

"On one condition..." Eponine says firmly. "You get the hell out of here afterwards and don't come back for the rest of the weekend. Unless you want to be witness to events that probably wouldn't be that pleasant for you."

Courfeyrac turns to look at her and grins. "Don't worry. I'll even keep Gavroche out of your hair tomorrow, since you seem to have forgotten about Sibling Sundays."

Eponine winces, feeling guilty for a half-second, then reaches over and musses Courfeyrac's hair. "Thanks. You're the best. Now what kind of pizza do you want?"

By the time the pizza arrives, Eponine and Enjolras have flirted mercilessly, and Enjolras can tell Eponine has challenged herself to make their friends as uncomfortable as possible. But he also knows that she is reveling in this new change with them, so he goes with it because he wants nothing more than to make her happy; if she's crazy enough to choose _him _as her happiness, then he won't do anything to rock the boat. Hell, she can decorate his hair with flower crowns if she so chooses, as long as she continues to smile and laugh.

Once they all eat their fill, the other guys leave as promised, Courf with suggestive wiggling eyebrows, Grantaire making smoochy noises, and Combeferre's easy-going personality finally making a reappearance.

"Have fun, you crazy kids," he teases as he closes the door behind him.

Eponine turns to look at Enjolras and then looks slowly around the room. "So. We haven't done it in here yet."

"Well what are we waiting for then?"

* * *

The next week goes by in a blur and Enjolras has never been happier. Or more exhausted. Eponine sleeps at his house every night, and the sex hasn't lessened in intensity yet.

Ten days after they officially declared themselves together, on December 23rd, Eponine calls him at work around 4:30.

"Hello?" He's balancing two case files in one hand, a coffee in the other, and squeezing the phone between his head and his shoulder. This is his last day of work before he takes off a few days for Christmas, and he's looking forward to spending time with Eponine since her school's break has also begun.

"Hey. Uh...you need to come home." Eponine gets straight to the point. She doesn't sound particularly upset or anything, though, so Enjolras isn't too alarmed.

He puts the coffee down so he can hear her better. "Why? What's going on?"

"Just trust me. You need to get here. Like, five minutes ago. We need to talk."

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeeeeeeeeah..." She stretches the word out a little too long, like she's not quite sure what to say. Though he still has an hour of work left to do, Enjolras agrees to come home and starts packing up his stuff as he hangs up.

Suddenly, he freezes. It's only been about ten days since they started sleeping together. She's telling him he needs to come home so they can talk. Jesus, she can't be pregnant, can she? She wouldn't know so fast, there's no way. Right? Fuck.

Now he's slightly freaking out, but the rational side of his brain tells him that if that was the case, Eponine would have sounded a lot more worried out on the phone. Still, he lays on his horn like an asshole all the way home, swerving around people like crazy and cursing all the dipshits on the road who obviously don't know how to get anywhere in a hurry.

When he pulls onto his street, he notices some commotion in front of his house, and once he gets closer, his mouth falls open. He can't pull into the driveway.

He can't pull into the driveway because every piece of furniture Eponine owns is sitting in it. She's leaning against her dresser and arguing with Grantaire when Enjolras gets out of the car.

"What in the hell is going on?" he asks, annoyed.

Eponine looks over and sighs, throwing her hands up. "These assholes moved all of my shit over here and all of Combeferre's shit over _there."_ She points at the house across the street that she (previously) shared with Grantaire and Courfeyrac.

Combeferre comes out of the house carrying his bedside lamp and waves when he sees Enjolras. "Hey, Enj. Hope you don't mind. We decided to do a little switch-a-roo."

Enjolras raises his eyebrows and turns his famous glare onto Grantaire. "And why did you decide to do this?"

"Because you two have been fucking like rabbits and Eponine hasn't come home in a week. Why should Combeferre have to listen to you two just to sleep in his own bed? Eponine is obviously not coming back anytime soon. So. Logical choice – move Combeferre to our house. And you two lovebirds can move in together."

"That's not your decision to make!" Eponine screeches, smacking Grantaire hard on the arm. "As I've already explained to you!"

The Enjolras of eleven days ago would have been completely pissed to have something like this pulled on him; this Enjolras, however, can actually kind of see the sense in this. He glances around at Eponine's stuff and then takes her arm, gently pulling her farther up the driveway so they can talk.

"Can you believe them?" she hisses. "They're so rude! I'm not helping them put any of my crap back, I swear. They're going to do it all themselves."

"Or we could just move it into my house," he says levelly, and Eponine stops short, her mouth falling open.

"What?"

"Though they went about it wrong, I can kind of see what they mean. Were you planning on spending the night in your own bed in the foreseeable future?"

"Well, no..."

"Hasn't half of your wardrobe already made it's way into my bedroom?"

"Yes..."

"And aren't our books already all mixed up?"

"Yeah..."

"And don't you love me?"

Her face softens and she cocks her head at him. "Of course. That's not the issue."

"Then move in with me. I know it's fast. But it's us. We know each other. We know, basically, what to expect. We can do this, Eponine."

She stares at him, speechless, for several minutes, and he lets her just think. Finally, she asks, "You're really sure? You think it will be okay, us living together so fast? We haven't even been together for two weeks."

"Doesn't it feel like longer? Doesn't it feel right already?" He takes her arms, rubbing his hands up and down them gently. "This is right, Eponine. We're right."

"I know we are." She sighs, then steps forward and wraps her arms around him, resting her head on his chest. "Okay. I'll move in with you."

He smiles widely, his heart swelling, and kisses her forehead. "Really? If you're not completely sure, I'll make these imbeciles take your stuff back. And it won't hurt my feelings, I promise. In fact, I'll enjoy getting to boss them around."

She laughs and leans up to kiss him. "I'm sure. Merry Christmas, roomie."

* * *

**Well, that's it. Last full chapter! All that's left is the epilogue and then this story is finished. :) I've had so much fun with it and been so blown away by the response. Thank you so much to everyone who has read, reviewed, favorited, and followed. It means a lot to me!**

**Also - I don't have any ideas for a new fic yet, but I would love, love, love to get some prompts and see what I can come up with for them. So, if you have any ideas, you can message me here or on tumblr! Follow me at moonlightandmagnolias85 . tumblr . com.**

**Hope you enjoyed the last chapter! Please let me know what you think!**


	11. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

They spend Christmas Eve with all of their friends, first having dinner at their favorite diner in the Marigny ("_Tachos. _Fucking tater-tot nachos, guys. It's genius."), and then driving around in Feuilly's ridiculously over-sized van looking at Christmas lights and singing obnoxious Christmas carols. Eponine's hand rests on Enjolras' thigh as they sit in the back of the van and he plants soft kisses on her temple every once in a while when he thinks no one is looking. He only sort of minds now when his friends send obnoxious "awwws" in their direction or when Cosette literally has to fight back happy tears every time they make eye contact.

He has everything he could possibly want at this moment, and though he knows they will surely reach trying times in both their lives and relationship, he is confident that they can fight through them together. Once he commits to something, or someone, he isn't one to give up easily. Eponine isn't either.

When they are finally home later that night by themselves, Eponine sits him on the couch. "So...I got you a few presents. You can't open them until tomorrow, but there's one you can enjoy tonight."

"Please tell me this present involves you getting naked."

"It might." She winks at him, then retreats into the bedroom. She comes back out a few minutes later with a short, silky, red robe on.

"I like the color," Enjolras says. "Red suits you." He's always had a thing for red.

"Thank you; I thought you'd approve." Eponine slowly unties the robe and lets it fall to the floor to reveal a lacy red lingerie set that immediately makes Enjolras lick his lips. She smiles seductively at his reaction and moves to the couch, straddling his lap.

They make love right there, slowly and sensuously, his eyes never leaving hers. Enjolras stifles her cries as she comes with his mouth, pulling her bottom lip between his teeth. Afterwards, Eponine stays in his lap, resting her forehead against his and playing with his hair.

"I think you should wear this every Christmas Eve," Enjolras finally says, leaning down and burying his face in her cleavage. "Even after we have kids and Christmas will be crazy."

Eponine sucks in a breath and pulls on his hair, turning his face back to hers. Her eyes are searching his face. "Did you just say we're going to have children? Jesus, I've really done a number on you, Enjolras."

He blushes and shrugs. "So maybe I've thought about the future."

"Good. I'm glad you have. Because even when your beautiful, full head of curly hair is long gone, I promise I'll still love you," she teases.

"Who says it's going anywhere?"

She snorts. "I've seen your father. He's bald. There's no way this is lasting."

"Maybe I'll get lucky."

"Or maybe I'll just have to enjoy it while it lasts."

"I'm not going to go bald, Eponine."

"I'm asking your dad tomorrow when he started to lose his hair."

Now Enjolras is laughing. "Don't you dare! My family is insane enough already without getting onto the subject of hair loss. We totally don't have to go there tomorrow, anyway...the few times a year I see my family are a few times too many."

Eponine shrugs. "We can decide tomorrow. Right now, though..." She leans forward and brushes her lips against his ear. "Take me to bed."

Enjolras stands, scooping her up in his arms. "You don't have to ask me twice."

* * *

The next morning, Enjolras wakes up to Eponine bouncing on the bed beside him. "Wake up! I want to open my presents and see what my sexy boyfriend bought me." She teasingly runs a finger down his bare chest, then grabs his hand, pulling him to his feet. He's still half asleep and sighs, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. When Eponine hands him a pair of pajamas, he dutifully puts them on and follows her into the living room. A pan full of cinnamon rolls is cooling on top of the oven and filling the room with a delicious aroma.

"Can we eat first?"

"Hell no. Sit your ass down. It's present time."

Enjolras plops down on the floor next to the tree and watches her with amusement. "Why are you so excited?" he asks curiously.

Eponine turns more serious eyes on him and shrugs, picking up her first gift and holding it gingerly in her hands. "Because I've never had this before. Courf and R spend Christmas morning with their families, so living with them, I just kind of spent it alone. And growing up, we never had any presents except for what my sister and I scraped together for Gavroche or strangers donated. And my parents just drank. So...I want to start a new Christmas tradition with you. Be officially domesticated and all of that boring bullshit." She finally gives him a lopsided smile.

Enjolras feels his chest tighten at her words, and feels an immense responsibility to suddenly make this the best Christmas she's ever had. And every one after this, too. He reaches out and takes the present she's holding, knowing it's the expensive copy of _Jane Eyre _he found, and sets it aside.

"Well then, you need to save that one for last, because I think it's going to be your favorite. At least I hope it is."

Her eyes light up as she eyes the present. "Okay. Here, open this one first." She hands him a gift wrapped in penguin wrapping paper, and Enjolras agrees to open _all_ of his presents first because Eponine likes building the suspense for herself. She gets him a completely random assortment of stuff – a few new ties with patterns (because the plain ones he always wears are just boring), a beautiful book filled with old pictures of New Orleans, his favorite pralines, a new t-shirt that he'll never wear in public declaring "My girlfriend is hot", and a larger traveling coffee cup since she's noticed he's always complaining that the one he has doesn't hold enough. Not to mention several new books he's wanted for a while; when he asked her how she knew which ones to get, she just smirks and tells him she knows exactly where he keeps all of his "to do" and "to buy" lists. He's grateful that she's apparently a snoop. His favorite presents, however, are several framed photographs of different sizes that she's put together for the house; some are of just the two of them over the years, but some are whole group shots.

"I thought it would make this place seem more like home," she explains.

"It already does, with you here," Enjolras says, and then winces. "Jesus, I am such a fucking sap all of a sudden."

"My beautiful visage and charming personality just have that effect on you, I suppose." She smirks and leans over to kiss him. "So you like everything then? I figured you'd hate the ties, but I swear, you should wear them. People like fun ties!"

"I'll give them a chance," he says patiently. "Now are you ready for your gifts?"

"Oh my God, yes!" She claps and crosses her legs, looking like one of the first graders she teaches, Enjolras thinks. He hands her presents one by one, enjoying the way she gets excited over each one, no matter how insignificant. He spent a shit-load of money on her, between all of the little things he bought and the book – way more than she spent on him – but he doesn't care. It's worth it to give her this first special Christmas, a memory she can keep with her for the rest of her life.

She loves everything – the cute children's books he picked out for her classroom, a "world's best teacher" mug, a beautiful new leather bound journal, a vintage framed photo of the entrance to Lafayette Cemetery (why she loves cemeteries he doesn't know, but she does), the new expansion pack for "The Sims", and a silver fleur-de-lis necklace she admired in a store with him one day.

After he's put it on her, Eponine remembers there's still one present left. "Hey! What about the one you took away from me in the beginning? I want to open it."

Enjolras picks up the book and hands it to her gently. "Be careful," he instructs. "It's fragile. Don't rip the paper off like you have for everything else." He eyes the mess of scattered wrapping paper scraps around them and shakes his head.

"Okay..." She chews on her lip, wondering what the heavy object could be, and carefully pulls the paper away. When she notices the title on the cover of the book, her eyes widen. "Oh! Whoa. How old is this? It looks ancient..." She carefully opens the front cover, her fingers playing over the pages with a gentle touch.

"It's from 1910. I found it in a store in the Quarter." He knows it was a good choice just by watching her. She's enraptured by it, her eyes glued to the old print.

"1910? Oh my God. This is amazing, Enjolras, thank you."

"You're more than welcome."

She hugs the book to her chest for a moment and turns serious eyes to him. "_All my heart is yours, sir: it belongs to you; and with you it would remain,were fate to exile the rest of me from your presence forever," _she recites quietly, and then smiles, laying the book beside her and crawling over to him on the floor. She presses her lips to his as Enjolras wraps his arms around her waist.

After a few minutes, Eponine pulls away.

"Did Christmas meet your expectations?" he asks.

"More than. And by the way, I know it's not polite to ask this kind of stuff, but...how much was that book? It's _old._"

Enjolras clears his throat and shrugs a little uncomfortably. "Don't worry about it."

She narrows her eyes. "How much?"

"It was't too bad..."

"_How much_?"

"A lot..."

"What is a lot?"

"Well I got a good deal! He wanted fifteen hundred, but I talked him down to a thousand."

Her mouth falls open. "_You spent a thousand dollars on one Christmas present for me?!"_

"Yes." He covers her mouth with his hand before she can shout at him again. "And I would do it again! Look how much you love it. And it's rare! It's awesome, Ep, you can't deny it. It's cool to own something so old that you love so much. Right?"

"Yes..." she agrees reluctantly.

"Then I don't want to hear about the cost anymore," Enjolras says firmly. "It doesn't matter as long as you're happy."

"Well, I am. So you win, I guess."

"Good." He smiles and kisses her again, mumbling against her lips, "Merry Christmas, Eponine."

* * *

**I can't believe it's finished! I've enjoyed writing this story so much. I hope everyone enjoyed the ending; I actually know what happens in this particular universe with these two further down the road, but it's not super dramatic, so I'm not sure writing it is worth it? If you'd like a oneshot or two, please let me know and I may post it on tumblr. (Probably not on here.)  
**

**Thank you to every single reader - I appreciate you taking the time to notice my work more than you know. And special thanks to everyone that has favorited, followed, and reviewed. THANK YOU! I hope to hear from you guys again in the future.**

**Also - tater tot nachos. REAL THINGS. And if you come to New Orleans, I can point you in their direction. ;)**

**Thanks again, and see you soon! **

**Follow me at moonlightandmagnolias85 . tumblr . com!**


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